


A magical meal

by Kamen_rider_Dimension



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 食戟のソーマ | Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma
Genre: Confident Harry Potter, Gen, Harry Leaves Hogwarts, Harry Potter Cooks, Harry on the run, Herbologist Arato Hisako, Modern Setting, Potioneer Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 95,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamen_rider_Dimension/pseuds/Kamen_rider_Dimension
Summary: Megumi wasn't sure what to make of the new boy - he was eccentric, yes, but the way he worked with food... it was almost unnatural. Supernatural even. The things he did in the kitchen couldn't be replicated, the dishes he brought out had something unearthly to them. Frankly, Megumi wouldn't be surprised if they ended up titling him a cooking wizard.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	1. The enigmatic boy

**Author's Note:**

> A story written for Fanfiction.net in early 2019. An experiment into seeing how potions might've affected the world of cooking, as muggles can consume them even if they can't make them. Most recipes will attempt to include enough detail to be replicated.

"Greetings, my name is Harry Potter. I recall hundreds, if not thousands of people applying to take the transfer exam into the illustrious establishment, yet the moment it actually came down to the challenge, all but two chose to flee. You see, cooking is commonly compared to chemistry, but I like to think it's a magic; creating things far beyond the sum of its parts with skill, fitness and natural talent in equal parts. Those people didn't have the magic touch required to succeed at such a magical art as this. You can trust that I do."

The scruffy black haired English boy stepped off the podium with a small bow, a smile on his face even as he heard the murmurs build up around him. Harry wouldn't let those faze him; he had faced far worse from people in his own home country, there was no way he could feel intimidated by a race who was known to be less than receptive to those who were foreign. With a small sigh, Harry hefted his suitcase and began to make his way towards the giant building that towered over them all: Totsuki Tea Ceremony and Culinary Academy, known across the world as quite literally the most prestigious and successful cooking academy in the world. A ruthless regime cut down the students until ninety-nine per cent of the populous were sacrificed, the remaining one per cent going on to become some of the most esteemed chefs to ever grace the culinary world.

Harry would show them something they had never seen before. Using ingredients they could never think of, using methods that a normal man would quite literally laugh at and never even dare to attempt, Harry would show them an entirely different world of cooking. Within that briefcase, all sorts of different bottles and jars were filled to the brim with a wide variety of ingredients just waiting to be used in magnificent ways and when he looked towards the first lesson of the day, Roland Chapelle's French cuisine, Harry couldn't help but think there wasn't a better way to start in the world.

* * *

"It's a pleasure to meet you. As I said on the stage, my name's Harry Potter. I hope we can get along." Harry formally greeted with a deep bow, the blue-haired girl he was facing following up with a flurry of her own. If it weren't for the fact that she was in the high school division of the school already, Harry would never have pegged her for the kind to be so skilled; the way she acted was as if she was about to fall to pieces any moment and it certainly wasn't only because she had been partnered with him – she had been shaking like a leaf in the wind ever since she entered the classroom.

"M-M-M-Megumi. Megumi T-Tadokoro!" the girl eventually managed to say before falling to the ground in a ball, repeated drawing on her hand and motioning as if to swallow it. Harry could only shake his head, a questioning raise of his eyebrow causing the girl to fumble over her words once more. "I-I'm sorry, it helps me to relax… if I get one more E rating, then I'll be expelled…"

"Well, don't worry about that. We'll just have to give this dish a little magic touch and it'll go down a treat with the teacher!" Harry declared with a thumbs up, the girl hesitantly nodding before leaping to attention at the sound of an opening door.

The blond man who walked in held a stern gaze over every single student that was in test kitchen three, not a single motion to his face save for a few grimaces as his eyes passed over a select few. It didn't take a genius to tell he had already picked out the people he didn't like or thought didn't have the talent required to succeed. Harry had seen that look in his old headmaster's eyes, he had become used to it, even if he did hide it behind a visage of joviality.

"Good morning to you all, my _apprentis_." Chapelle began. "The moment you step through that kitchen door, it becomes your responsibility to ensure that a delectable dish is created. That duty is inescapable – neither experience nor status will let you flee from such a task. Therefore, in my class, any dish that is not worthy of an A rating will automatically receive an E. it would do you well to remember that."

The chef that never smiled, known to be one of the most strict when it came to the grading of his student's food; Megumi was left trembling simply from hearing his words. Harry could only give a good measured shake of his head; did this girl really put so little faith into their ability to form a delicious dish?

"Your task for today shall be to create Boeuf Bourguignon, an absolute staple of French cuisine. Though there will be a recipe on the board, deviations shall be accepted… for better or for worse." Chapelle declared, his assistant already scribing the recipe at an incredible speed. "The time limit to make the dish is two hours, though each team shall serve theirs as soon as it has been completed. And with that said… _Commencer à cuisiner!_ "

"Megumi, shall we begin? Can I trust you to peel and chop the carrot and onion, also chop the 2 sticks of celery?" Harry immediately ordered, Megumi taken aback for a moment before nodding. There seemed to be a fire that hadn't been shown before in the boy's eyes, even as she realised the problem with his method.

"B-but, that's a cook marinade! If we wanted to do that, we would have to marinate it overnight!" the blue-haired girl immediately pointed out, only for Harry to wave her off and begin to heat a tablespoon of oil in a large saucepan. He patted the briefcase that was just underneath the table, a joking tone to his voice.

"Don't worry, I have something that'll make sure it's done in seconds. Will you trust me that much, Miss Tadokoro?" Harry questioned, holding out a carrot as his other hand was busy preparing a frying pan with another tablespoon of oil alongside 25 grams of butter. Though clearly reluctant and constantly looking towards the kitchen clock, just one look at Harry was all Megumi needed to know that Harry was perfectly serious with his plan regardless of his tone. Within seconds, she had already begun chopping every one of the vegetables.

"Ready!" Megumi called out as she placed the mirepoix before Harry, who had already added bacon into the frying pan, the smoky scent filling the air.

"Thank you!" and then the carrot, celery and onion were cooking for a good 2-3 minutes, Harry passing on the duty of watching over the bacon and waiting to add the shallots in so that the messy-haired boy could chuck in a pair of bay leaves, 2 bottles' worth of burgundy wine, 2 sprigs of thyme and a whole head of garlic, fifteen minutes required before the marinade was cooling down and poured over the 1.5 kilograms of beef they had prepared. "Now, this is when the magic happens. Don't tell anybody."

"Tell anybody what?" Megumi questioned, having put the bacon and shallots into the casserole dish they would be using to make their Boeuf Bourguignon, turning back to her parent only to see him pulling out a completely different looking bowl of beef with a proud smile on his face. But that was impossible, the amount of time it would take to properly marinate the meat to that appearance and texture was far too long, the bowl that he was holding looked perfect but Harry had only held it for a few seconds… what kind of wizardry was this!? "B-But, how did you do that?"

"I told you, I have a magic touch!" Harry joyfully replied, finishing with his patting down of the beef with kitchen paper and placing half of it into one of the pans, the wonderful scent of beef browning floating past Megumi's nostrils. There was no way she could pretend that it hadn't been perfectly marinated, the deep scent coming off the meant wouldn't be present without hours of resting in the marinade and it was pretty clear that a couple of the chefs working nearby had taken notice of the difference in scents between their own dish and Harry and Megumi's. "Megumi, brown off the other half of the meat and deglaze the pan. I'll get to work on the mushrooms and parsley."

"O-Ok!" with the other half of the meat now wonderfully brown, Megumi focused her attention onto the pan itself, 3 spoonfuls of the marinade entering the pan to pick up all of the magnificent flavours left in the pan, Harry rapidly chopping the parsley for garnish and checking over every mushroom to ensure no dirt could be found on them. Even the tiniest speck, after all, could ruin the flavour of the end result With the heated through marinade mixture entering the casserole dish along with everything else, including 290 millilitres of beef stock and 2 tablespoons of plain flour, it was ready for the oven, Megumi turning with a bright smile to where Harry was waiting with a preheated oven at 150 degrees Celsius. "How long does this go in for?"

"Well, it should go until the beef is tender, adding in the brandy mushrooms about halfway through the cooking time…" Harry mused, letting Megumi place the covered casserole dish into the oven and closing the door. One look at the clock had Harry giving a small smirk as his eyes fell over their fellow students; while they had already gotten to the stage where it was mostly waiting, the rest of the people were worrying over whether their meat had marinated enough and ensuring that nothing was going to burn prematurely. "Don't worry about the timing Megumi, it will be done in the time limit."

That statement… it was the first time that Megumi really thought about it; she hadn't been worried much if at all since they had started cooking! She was under the watchful eyes of one of the strictest teachers available at Totsuki doing an incredibly complex and time-consuming dish in an awkward time limit, under normal circumstances she should be a wreck curled into herself on the floor. But when she was with Harry, everything seemed to be going perfectly fine, even more so than just perfectly fine; there was no way it could be going as well as it was considering the method that they were using. Normally, it would take a minimum of their entire time limit to use the method that Harry was… but he had managed to marinate the meat in a matter of seconds, Megumi had no reason to worry!

In another time, where Megumi might've had a completely different partner to work with on this dish, then they would've followed the traditional method detailed upon the board and their meal would be left upon the burner, open to people who might just want to play a little bit of sabotage. In this situation, however, Megumi was lucky enough to have Harry on her side and in no time at all, Harry was pulling out their dish from the oven.

"But has it really finished?" the blue-haired chef questioned. They still had a fair chunk of their time limit left, the people around them getting angsty as their beef continued to cook. From the abstract despair displayed on some of their faces, some had no doubt put their beef in too late and they would fail to get the correct tenderness in time. "We could be safe, we could put it in for a few minut-!?"

But then Harry opened the lid.

Almost immediately, the scent of Boeuf Bourguignon filled the air far stronger than any other dish, Harry delicately placing upon the plate and putting a sprinkling of parsley over the top. Even just the scent was enough to make a few of those close enough to get as whiff begin to drool a small amount, a glint entering Harry's eyes behind his glasses. With a proud stride, Harry eagerly presented the dish to Chapelle, the man giving it a cursory glance over as Megumi shuffled about behind the boy.

"…I had not expected to assess any dishes for a good amount of time. Tell me, what did you do to this dish that makes you believe it is already suitable for consumption?" the teacher questioned as he picked up a form. Harry rushing over to their station so he could find another for Megumi and himself to taste. Even merely placing his fork against the meat was more than telling to the man, the powerful scent wafting up towards his nostrils; the way it bounced showed just how tender the beef was and the juices that flowed out were plentiful.

"Actually, I added a personal twist on it, a secret recipe that most people simply cannot hope to replicate without a special touch." The English boy explained with a grin, lightly nudging Megumi at his side. "but if it weren't for Megumi, I wouldn't have been able to make it as good as it is now. I think this is the best version of it I've ever worked on!"

"Eh!? M-me!? B-but I didn't do anything…" Megumi immediately tried to deny, only to clam up mere seconds later; she was in front of Chappelle and the dish they were talking about would affect their end grade. Call her selfish, but maybe she shouldn't be downplaying her part if the Boeuf Bourguignon was as good as it seemed. Megumi took a piece off just after Chapelle, the two bringing the pieces of beef to their mouths moments after one another as Harry quickly followed.

Heaven.

"This shouldn't be possible, not with the time and limits…" Chapelle breathed out. He had made sure to personally inspect each of the ingredients that had been granted to the students for use within this challenge and there was simply no way that a meal with such a complex flavour profile could be formed without causing conflict between the individual flavours. In fact, it felt like very few different forms of flavourings had been used, only the sort he had seen the pair handling being present upon his tongue.  
. "Even with a small range of flavourings, you've somehow managed to enhance their impact immensely without compromising on any other aspect. I barely need a knife to break through the meat and it melts upon my tongue…"

"it's so basic for a Boeuf Bourguignon but so good!" Megumi couldn't help but squeal. It was as if she had fallen into a completely different world, a world of delicious magic. No worries marred her face, only sheer joy as a spell unknown swept her off her feet and towards the heavens, heavens filled with juicy beef waiting to be consumed. Harry merely took a small bite and hummed, far from the extravagant reaction his new friend seemed to be having.

"Well, there can be no doubts about it – this dish is worthy of an A rating." Chapelle declared, a small grin upon his face as took another bite. A gasp filled the air, a confused Harry turning around to see almost everyone in the room completely frozen in surprise. It was only the smallest of whispers in the air that actually told harry just what the issue was.

"They managed to make Chapelle smile…?"

"He's the strictest one here, no one's ever made him smile…"

"There's only one issue here…" Chapelle rang out, Megumi's joy melting away as the pair took in Chapelle's suddenly far more serious expression. That was impossible, Megumi couldn't taste or see a single thing wrong with and the blond man had already given it a stellar assessment, right? Turns out, her worries were unfounded. "This is a dish that deserves a far higher rating, yet I only hold the authority to grant you an A. know however that if it were possible, this dish would most certainly hold a higher rank. You may clean up and prepare to leave."

"Y-yes! Thank you!" Megumi sighed in relief, moving away from the judgement desk with a small fist pump of victory. She wasn't going to be expelled from Totsuki, she didn't have to go home defeated! And when she really thought about it, she had nothing to do with that result. Most of the effort lay in the hands of the strange English boy she had been paired with for the task, Harry Potter. The boy who hefted the suitcases he left beneath the work surface with a grin, a tune she didn't know upon his lips as he packed away all of the things they had used during the cooking process.

Someone who had done things that shouldn't have been possible, who seemed to have an almost unearthly feeling to him as he cooked, never losing his smile. It was a far cry from the timid chef who barely deserved her title and Megumi couldn't but hope that they would share another lesson.

"Harry Potter… just who are you?"

* * *

"My apologies. I had to take a detour to ensure that all of my ingredients were properly prepared." Megumi rubbed the tiredness out of her eyes as she stumbled out into the main hall of her dorm. The rest of the lessons that had been planned for the day had been just as intense as the first challenge, but with the students mixed up and working individually; no one would come to save her, meaning as much effort as possible was needed to keep her calm. Naturally, the workload, added onto her activities at her research society had left the blue-haired girl drained, Megumi barely registering Harry stood before the keeper of Polar Star dormitory… wait, what? "I assume then that I can still take the challenge?"

"Of course, but don't think you can just waltz in with any old dish and get a room. I've tasted tons of these kinds of dishes, my tongue won't be so easily pleased!" the elderly woman declared, hands upon her hips before she noticed the sleepy Megumi passing by. "Ah, Megumi! Care to watch the new guy with me? He's trying out the challenge. Megumi will tell you just how difficult it is. After all, she took th-!"

"Fumio! Don't say it out loud!" Megumi cried, only to realise what she did moments later and let a bright red colour her cheeks. That tone only deepened when she heard Harry's stifled laughter, flinching back slightly before she felt a hand upon her shoulder, belonging to one English boy.

"It doesn't matter if you failed before. It just means you've grown enough to get in now." Harry reassured, turning to Fumio with a competitive fore behind his words. "If a girl with enough skill as Megumi struggled with this challenge, it really won't be easy, will it? Still, not as if I can do anything but give it my best. I'm assuming that your ban on the premises doesn't count for the kitchen?"

It was a weird contrast; whereas the outside of Polar star dormitory was more than enough to scare off people with the rather unkempt building and rather odd mess of pipes that travelled throughout the building as an unorthodox method of communication, the kitchen was a far different story. It made sense – it was a culinary academy, so even the worst looking buildings were bound to have the best of kitchen equipment and it certainly showed with how the kitchen sparkled, not even a speck of dust and dirt as Harry drew his finger over the surface. Yes, this would work perfectly.

Megumi fidgeted slightly as she found herself stood beside Fumio. In her eyes, Harry had already proven himself when he managed to deliver a far superior Boeuf Bourguignon than any other pair in the class; what could he possibly hope to produce in this situation to top it? Once more, all that the boy had on him was the briefcases that he had carried into the classroom – while it may have had the size to hold a couple of ingredients, it was too small to carry anything significant in addition to his own personal belongings and Megumi hadn't seen any other carrying cases with it. Just what could he possibly pull out and create?

"Well then, let's get to work!"

With only a few moments of preparation, his pan was finally up to the preferred heat, butter and oil entering the pan to melt down. While it was reaching the melting point, several cloves of garlic found themselves chopped into slices, the individual pieces sliding into each of the gaps within the potatoes, the vegetables quickly transferred to a roasting dish. In followed the butter and oil mixture, along with 100 millilitres of water and the whole thing was tossed with salt and pepper until each potato was beautifully glistening and well-seasoned. With that complete, they could go into the oven: 1 hour and 30 minutes, continuously basting with butter every 10 to 15 minutes to prevent burning. That allowed Harry to move onto the next aspect of his dish.

Megumi couldn't help the little bit of awe that entered her; there wasn't anything particularly spectacular going on, but there was something about the way that the boy held himself that showed he was completely comfortable in the kitchen. With many of the students and even some of the professionals, there was always a pressure upon them to succeed and excel and it clearly showed in the way they held themselves. Harry? He barely looked as if he felt a single thing beyond joy and happiness. Not even Fumio's formidable presence was enough to cow him it seemed. It made sense to Megumi – if he didn't flinch in the face of Chapelle, there would be very few people who could shake him.

Harry let out a small chuckle as he pulled forth a stockpot, the weight meaning nothing to him as he placed it upon the burner. A cup each of soy sauce, water and white sugar as well as a quarter cup each of ginger and garlic, both minced, entered the pot, a spoon stirring it until not a single grain of sugar could be seen anymore. Then five pounds worth of chicken thighs entered, the burner beneath flaring to life to bring the whole thing to a boil, the wonderful smell filling the whole kitchen. Fumio had been watching the whole thing with a straight face, but Harry wasn't a fool, he could tell she was getting intrigued at least a little bit.

After about thirty minutes of turning every five minutes and letting the chicken boil, his thermometer read 74 degrees Celsius, the juice coming out clear as he pulled out the probe – perfect. Taking it off the heat, Harry took a small sample of the sauce into a saucer, the rich glaze coating his mouth as he tasted. Just as he expected – that would just need ten minutes to cool down to the perfect serving temperature. The leftover time between his potatoes being done and the chicken finishing off was just enough for Harry to bring out several plates, the oven wafting steam into the air as they potatoes were transferred into one plate and the chicken was chopped with a cleaver, the sauce drizzled over. Adding a grating of cheddar cheese and chives over the potatoes and that was a dish complete.

"Two plates weren't what I requested in the brief, Potter. Western and Chinese food as well… you don't seem to be able to make up your mind." Fumio muttered with a dark glare, Harry simply rubbing the back of his head with a small chuckle.

"I know it seems to be cheating, but I must ask that you try it first. They may not normally go together on the same table, but both have their own hand to show." The black-haired boy insisted, Fumio unrelenting in her look as she took a small piece of one of the potatoes within her fork, Megumi quickly following after her. It looked perfectly decent at least to their observation, the elderly lady opening up and letting it sit on her tongue.

A sudden wave of flavour burst through the entirety of her mouth, Fumio's eyebrows raising as she tried to comprehend the taste sensation passing through her, rapidly chewing and taking in another of the potatoes.

"The careful preparation of the potatoes has resulted in a large number of crispy parts, yet the inside of them remain perfectly creamy and soft." The Polar Star care-lady remarked. The flavours within are perfectly normal and simple, basic to a tee, yet they all work in perfect harmony… I haven't ever lived in a western country, yet it feels incredibly homely, adventurous without taking any risks… how is such a thing possible?"

Megumi was lost for words entirely. There was nothing remotely that difficult about then; to be honest, they were pretty much beginner dishes that most anyone at Totsuki would be able to accomplish with only a little time, but somehow… somehow they were beyond anything Megumi could ever imagine such simple dishes could be. They somehow even managed to feel…

"… It tastes familiar almost." The chicken as well practically melted in her mouth from how tender it was, the beautiful juices mixing with the sauce to create an umami coating of the mouth. Such a simple dish as well, barely needing any form of preparation, yet once more Megumi found herself lost for words.

There had been hundreds of meals Fumio had tasted in her time, just as many being incredibly flashy and technically challenging dishes that were meant to impress with an instant impact. These dishes? They were meant to be comforting, good home food that anyone could make, yet everyone always made it different and unique. In an instant, she found herself sitting in China, a place she hadn't been for years. Back when Fumio was a spry little thing, travelling to a different country for the first time with her then-boyfriend. They had tried so many different things then, but it was always the simplest pleasures where they had the most enjoyment. Eating this brought tears to her eyes, the memories of a beloved one feeding her the same dish coming flooding back.

"It's beautiful, they both are. Though they are inherently different dishes, both of them have a synergy that shouldn't work. Their flavours may not perfectly match, but there is some indescribable connection between them that makes you want to keep swapping between them regardless." Fumio commented, a content blush coming over her face as she finally managed to put her fork down, completely puzzled. "Just how did you achieve that with dishes that can be considered night and day?"

"Well, I decided it would be best if I did a little research before I came here." Was Harry's explanation as he gave a small shrug. There was the smile, the smile Megumi recognised – it was the exact same expression as when he had been cooking for Chapelle and pulled off that odd little trick with the meat. "Didn't I tell you Miss Daimido? When I was getting and preparing all of my ingredients, I decided to take a little detour…"

* * *

_"Wow, so you have all these chickens to yourself!?" Harry gasped as he looked to the coop. every bird looked to be at the peak of health; the eggs and meat they would provide had to be of excellent quality, all of them. Yuki merely gave a bright grin and a thumbs up in response, entering the cage and picking up a particularly wonderful-looking specimen._

_"Yup! Anyone who lives at Polar Star gets a chance at these beauties!" the orange-haired girl proudly boasted, Harry nodding rapidly as he scribbled down something in his little notebook. "You won't find any better birds in the whole Totsuki!"_

_"I mean, I know you said anyone who lives at Polar star, but you wouldn't happen to have any going free, would you?"_

_"Trying to get a step up with your entrance test? Sure, I'll get this one ready in a second!"_

* * *

_"So you specialise in fermented foodstuffs Ryoko? I don't wish to sound condescending or anything like that, but I assume that means you work with things like soy sauce as well?" Harry remarked with a bright grin as he looked within the specialised shed. Ryoko gave a small nod as she moved over to the corner, a tub filled with dark liquid sitting happily ready to be used._

_"This uses the traditional koji mixture fermented over several months. I've already pressed it, so I need to do at this point is pasteurise the mixture to remove any impurities and it'll be perfect." the purple-haired girl replied with more than a little bit of smugness entering her voice. After all, Harry looked absolutely entranced with the sauce and it was all entirely her work. "If you want, I can pasteurise this right now and give you some, for good luck in your entrance test."_

_"That would be wonderful!"_

* * *

_"I haven't had much experience in a smoker. This cheese looks beautiful though." the compliment didn't seem to affect Shun, the boy's face unchanging as he continued to deal with his various items left to smoke; the timeframe should've been reaching its desired stage at this point, meaning he would have to prepare the next batch for smoking. "Would it be possible to have some of this cheddar?"_

_"...Sure. I shouldn't need too much for myself."_

* * *

"Most of the people at this dormitory seems to have a speciality that helps them exceed; if I had met Megumi before I started the challenge, then I would've asked if there was anything she would be willing to part with as well." Harry continued. "Whether it be wild game, fermented foodstuffs, smoked food or incredible vegetables, quite a number of students here have a place where they shine. These dishes? They're meant to represent just what Polar Star can do when they work together!"

Well, I would be a fool to deny you after serving something like that. Here, the key to your new room, numbers on the key." Fumio declared, a youthful smile appearing on her visage, one that hadn't been brought forth for a while; most of the time, it was a strict 'pass' or 'fail' with few comments for improvements. Harry merely let a smile appear on his face as he respectfully bowed to the lady, moving out to the front hall with a sigh of relief. After all, things were getting cold and he hadn't exactly prepared to sleep in a barn or anything like that.

"That was amazing Harry! Fumio has really specific tastes!" Megumi cheered, her visage growing a beautiful smile as the two started to walk out of the kitchen. "I don't think I've ever thought about using all of our ingredients like that. I mean, we share the products made in the allotment at the back because we all work on that, but usually, we stick to what we do best."

"And there's nothing wrong with that. If you're putting in the effort, there's no reason why you shouldn't use that effort on yourself, especially in such a competitive environment." Harry reasoned, letting his briefcase fall on the floor outside what would be now his room. "But when you work together, you produce magic beyond anything you can imagine. I… I don't really have a speciality. I just want to make good food and improve dishes in ways that most people will never get to experience. If I can have the assistance of everyone else to make my food better, then I'll take it. If I can help other people make their food better, then all you need to do is ask."

* * *

"Harry? We're going to have a welcoming party! The other transfer student also managed to pass the dorm entrance exam!" Megumi called out as she knocked on the door, only to receive no reply from the other side. that was weird, Harry hadn't left his room yet and she made sure to check the baths beforehand just in case… a small push revealed how the door was unlocked, the blue-haired girl taking a small breath before she found her resolution. "Um, as long as you're decent… I'm coming in! Sorry for the intrusion!"

Except, when she pushed open the door, there was no one there to greet her, let alone object to her presence. The room itself remained completely empty – not a single touch added by Harry to even begin to make it more homely. Everything remained a blank slate, all except for the briefcase sitting innocently to the side.

Now, Megumi most certainly wasn't a rude girl. But if anyone just so happened to be leaving their briefcase on the ground unattended, a briefcase that seemed to hold much more than it possibly should be able to and perhaps had a hand in performing what appeared to be miracles, then could she really be blamed for having a small bit of intrigue? Before Megumi even knew it, her hand was already resting on the latch and opening it up, a simple click before the lid fell open. What she saw, she didn't expect.

Nothing.

Not just an empty case, but literally open air without a bottom. Well, to say nothing was technically incorrect, for there was actually a ladder within, leading into a realm completely unknown. If Megumi didn't know that the briefcase could be and had been moved, she would've been fooled into thinking that someone had taken out the base of the case along with the floor and instigated a completely random new entrance. From the sounds within it, however, it certainly didn't lead to just downstairs…

"I'm sorry about this!" Megumi whispered as she took hold of one of the rungs. At this point, there was no denying that she might have gone mad, but she was about to try and enter a briefcase with her full body. Slowly descending the ladder, it would take until she couldn't see over the top of the briefcase before Megumi let herself actually believe that this was a thing. One rung at a time, one foot down and then the other; the ladder when surprisingly deep down, so much so that Megumi was scared to look down.

Naturally, that meant she would then lose her footing and fall all the way down to the ground with a cushioned thump and a moan.

It at least meant that Megumi could finally get a good look around. Considering that she was sat inside a carrying case, the amber-eyed girl found herself staring around at what looked to be an entire Victorian parlour, complete with furniture and an endless supply of books. It was the odd bubbling from the distance however that drew Megumi in, the girl completely unaware of the sound of a briefcase closing above her.

Instead, all of her attention was focused on the lab like room, filled with all sorts of odd bits and pieces of animals and insects (or at least, that's what Megumi thought they were), held within glass containers. Several different liquids decorated the walls as well, the girl unable to decipher what any of them were. At least, she wasn't able to decipher it in the time before she heard a voice much harsher calling out behind her.

"How did you get in here?"


	2. The stoic cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On discoveries and desserts.

Harry cursed. No one was meant to see this, it was meant to remain a secret! At least of all people, it was Megumi – from what he had seen of the girl, she was remarkably meek and should push come to shove, then it would be simple enough to intimidate her into secrecy or… worse. He hadn't practised how to obliviate yet and it was normally only taught in very specific circumstances, but he could probably get it down to a point where she shouldn't be left a vegetable…

"T-there's a pa-party going on outside, and, and you weren't answering to the door, so I-I came in and your briefcase was sitting there and I got really curious and it had a ladder, so I came down the l-ladder and… I'm here." Megumi fumbled over her words, immediately falling into a bow. Even just looking around the area she was in, the blue-haired girl knew she was far in over her head and there had been other pathways she had yet to explore – who knew what kind of things were held here? If the world knew about it and saw it, there'd be chaos and people would _kill_ to prevent that sort of thing…

"I left the briefcase on mundane lock? Of course I left the briefcase on mundane lock…" Harry sighed, quickly flashing out a piece of wood and waving it about like a wand over the cauldron he was busy working over; no, it was an _actual_ wand, Megumi realised with a small bit of awe as she watched the liquid beneath the wooden stick morph into a completely different colour, the beautiful scent of oranges filling the air. "Sorry, three turns counterclockwise are required precisely ten minutes after the addition of an adder's fork, otherwise the potion would remain inert and lose its effect. I can tell you that, Asia's magic laws are far laxer than the rest of the world's..."

"A potion?" Megumi parroted, hesitantly approaching the iron cauldron. When Megumi thought of the term potion, she thought of vile concoctions with all sorts of strange abilities, but the smell of citrus emanating from the liquid… it drew you in like a wonderful dish…. No, that wasn't what she was meant to be focused on! "Wait, magic laws!? Then y-you're…!? You can do-!?"

"…Huh, didn't expect to be having this discussion so soon." Harry muttered, a small chuckle as he palmed his face. With an exaggerated bow, Harry turned to face Megumi, a smile on his face as his wand let out a spark of golden and red sparks. "Yes, Megumi. My name's Harry Potter, and I'm a wizard. I _can_ do magic."

* * *

Yuki Yoshino - a perky little thing whose care for her fellow Polar Star residents knows no bounds. Her aim was to breed her own unique kind of chicken and she keeps numerous varieties of animals for use within her cooking. Her energy transfers into her food like the wild freedom of an animal, producing exciting dishes without hesitation. No matter what kind of wild animal it is, Yuki had a plan to cook it and perfect as well.

Ryoko Sakaki – kind, gentle, mature; those are the words used to describe her as a person, both in mindset... and in body. Having been brought up in a fermented goods shop, her speciality naturally involves all sorts of different goods that have to go through the fermentation process, even occasionally producing sake despite the fact she isn't in a position to drink it.

Shun Ibusaki – a quiet realist kind of person who spends his time working away like a lumberjack to prepare his speciality of smoked goods. He doesn't dance around his words and doesn't need to for his cooking had already proven himself skilled and worthy of his place. With his creativity, even the oddest of things can be cooked and created through the art of smoking.

Zenji Marui – an incredibly intelligent individual who spent countless hours researching and studying to create incredible dishes. He holds not the blunt talent of his peers and his physical strength is somewhat lacking, but the fact that he acknowledges this and works ever harder to maintain his position made the bespectacled boy stronger than any other.

Daigo Aoki – the black-haired one. Shoji Sato – the blond-haired one. Constantly fighting, yet loyal to those they hold close, they had no specific speciality to name. That didn't mean they weren't skilled however and once they got past their bickering, they easily showed their talents. Being jacks of all trades is never a bad thing after all, even if they were constantly locked in conflict.

Satoshi Isshiki - a second-year who specialised in Japanese cuisine that had earned him a fearsome reputation. While his demeanour at first was kind and quirky, the fun-loving naturist quickly disappeared once his friends were insulted and the legendary chef that earned the seventh seat on the feared Elite Council came out without mercy. Otherwise, pretty cool guy.

Souma Yukihira – the only other transfer student who was incredibly skilled at the dishes he made for his family diner. Apparently, there had been an attempt to sabotage him during the task set by Chapelle, but the redhead had easily managed to overcome and adapt to make a dish that might possibly be better than his first attempt. That ingenuity and flexibility made him an unpredictable chef.

And finally, Megumi Tadokoro - a girl from a small port town raised humbly and with the goal of running her family's Ryokan inn. Incredibly modest and lacking in confidence when it comes to performing under pressure, her open speciality is working with various vegetables and bringing out their full flavour no matter what state they are in. However, behind those amber eyes lay a completely different power that could overwhelm any other given enough nurturing – her cooking held a welcoming aura to it, each dish carefully constructing with as much passion, emotion and thought put into the person eating her meal rather than any large immediate impact. With that kind of cooking, even the most basic of dishes could defeat a grandiose buffet.

They were a varied bunch to be sure, but gathered together as they were, each person contributing their little twist to the food supplied for the party, they came together like best friends. There wasn't even a single moment of hesitation before they accepted the new arrivals. Harry couldn't help but praise the mackerel burger Souma brought forth; it was clear to see why he managed to surpass the test to enter Polar Star Dormitory, especially considering he had only the small bits and pieces left from an empty kitchen.

Throughout the party, however, Harry's eyes kept drifting off to Megumi, the blue-haired girl catching his look and immediately ducking her head. Perhaps he had overdone it with his warning, but it had been necessary – the world wasn't ready to know there was a completely different world operating in the shadows of their own. The two sides would never come to understand one another.

" _But why not? This potion is meant to enhance flavours, right? And it uses only natural sources?" Megumi questioned, looking at her reflection in the deep crimson liquid. "There are hundreds, thousands of people who would love to use this stuff! If you worked together, you could become rich!"_

" _It's a mental issue Megumi. The magical world isn't a very accepting one. They're stuck in the past, thinking that they're still superior to those who lack magic." Harry explained, a slightly dark expression taking over his face. "They never leave their bubbles – even if it makes them money, they would never want to give up magical items to those who don't have magic. Plus, just as some would gladly pay to buy the stuff, there would be people who would become jealous that they couldn't make their own. Those who wouldn't accept that there were people who were capable of things thought to be superhuman, they would see them as monsters. That cannot be risked. Megumi, it may be hard, but you can't tell anyone about what I can do."_

"Wow Megumi-cchi, this is really good! This soy-glazed salmon practically melts in your mouth!" Yuki praised from the bed, holding up her plate of the glistening fish. Thanks to the constant basting of the sauce over the salmon as it cooked upon a barbeque, the fish had both a beautiful texture and colour, the flavours of the glaze seeping into every part of the fish. At the words of compliment, Megumi simply lowered her head, a happy smile appearing on her face.

"Oi, why are we having this party in my room again!? I just cleaned everything up, I don't need you making a mess on my bed!" Zenji complained, lifting his head from his book with an utter look of despair. When they had said that the party would be held in Zenji's room, Harry had naturally assumed that it meant they had gotten permission to use it as regular people would. Well, it didn't seem like anyone else was moving, so the party was staying there for now. "Anyway, Harry Potter. You came all the way from England to learn here, right? I couldn't tell it from your accent, you're Japanese is really good.

"Well, you know how it is. This place is considered the best in the whole culinary world, I would be a fool not to attend if I wish to be the greatest." Harry casually answered. "I was raised in a place called Surrey in England. My family wasn't really big on cooking, so they kind of just left it to me. Unlike some of the people here, including you lot, I was never given any more cooking education beyond what I chanced upon and cookbooks; by all rights, I shouldn't be able to perform on the same level as you, yet somehow my cooking was worthy of attendance."

He couldn't tell them the truth yet. They wouldn't be able to handle the truth, both mundane and magical. Now it was Megumi's turn to give him a questioning side glance.

"Well, none of that matters anymore. Starting from today, you and Soma are my precious little juniors. If anything comes up, don't be afraid to call on me for help." Satoshi declared, a wonderful smile on his face. The second-year had been the one to cook the majority of the food once he learnt there was going to be a welcoming party, a veritable buffet at hand once shopping was over and done with. Harry was, rightfully, incredibly impressed with the cooking on display, worthy of a chef moving into their second year in a school where there had been numerous examples of people being expelled in their first week. Now if only Satoshi wasn't speaking to them all while being naked... "You're all beautiful flowers about to blossom in the period known as high school life! Surely there cannot be any better reason to celebrate!"

"So basically, we're calling this a party for us all," Shun muttered, a small smile, the tiniest of things, coming to his face as he took a draw from his cup. "Satoshi is as energetic as usual."

"So what did you have to do for the transfer exam then? I heard they get the most gruelling tests because they don't like people coming in who didn't go to the junior high section." Yuki whispered conspiratorially, Ryoko rolling her eyes. Even the greatest academies in the world weren't that biased, they simply held a standard far too high for just any old person to enter, even if they did have a large amount of money, especially considering that Totsuki wasn't exactly a place lacking in funding. Whether someone had the appropriate skills or not, that was all one was judged on as to whether they were allowed to enter the high school.

"I mean, mine was a real mess. Thought I did a pretty good job with my Yukihira-style transforming furikake, but then Erina tried to make it out that it was disgusting. It was lucky she still managed to pass me." Soma chuckled, rubbing the back of her head. Harry could still remember how loud she had shouted while he was trying to present his dish, he had believed there was no way he could've possibly passed, but then he had been there right beside him during the entrance exam. "I never got a glance at your dish Harry."

"Well, I just went with what I did best... a little surprise."

* * *

_Miss Erina is unavailable to oversee your cooking exam, therefore I shall be your supervisor." Hisako Arato declared, the pink-haired secretary to the Nakiri clasping tightly onto the clipboard in her hands. Her expression was stern, as was to be expected of someone of her position and Harry could only give a small distracted nod. "As you are no doubt aware, the dish must have a focus on the use of eggs. Otherwise, you are free to create what you wish. If you are ready, then please begin."_

" _R-right." There was something that didn't feel right about Hisako, something he couldn't exactly pinpoint, but he would never say it aloud. Instead, he grabbed a bowl and started separating egg whites into it, carefully measuring and swapping the yolk from shell to shell until the number hit 140 grams exactly. Putting the yolks to the side (a culinary academy would find some use for them, even if he didn't take them with him afterwards), the bowl was quickly attached to a mixer, a small flick of the switch having the egg whites whisked up to stiff peaks._

_Hisako gave an approving hum as she watched; whatever she had expected from Harry Potter, it had not been a chef so dedicated to the details. While still whisking, 140 grams each of caster and icing sugar entered the bowl and if they were added too quickly in the wrong way, the whole end result would be ruined._

_That sugar and egg white mix soon found its way into a piping bag, Harry delicately piping a circle onto some greaseproof paper. Not a single shake to his movements, that was something that Hisako could approve of. No doubt that if she pulled out a ruler, each of the larger ones would be the exact same size and the boy was piping smaller rosettes inside and around that to form a perfect wreathe, each rosette holding a spiked peak. That would need around 90 minutes in an oven at 110 degrees Celsius._

" _The Meringues look adequate, but they alone shall not allow you entrance," Hisako warned, Harry giving a dismissive wave of his hand._

" _I would be a fool to think a place like Totsuki would accept me in just for that." the English boy remarked in answer, deft hands already laying down Satsuma segments as he pulled them apart from their original form. Within seconds, where six fruits had once sat, there were only pith-less pieces, leaving Harry to fill a pot with 100 millilitres of port and 50 millilitres of water. A cinnamon stick and clove soon entered, along with 4 juniper berries and a half teaspoon each of cracked black pepper and grated ginger, all finished off with 250 grams of caster sugar. Once the mixture had all boiled and reduced slightly, it would make a wonderful syrup._ _Perhaps she just made it up in her mind, but Hisako also thought there was something else added in as well, but it was far too quick and discrete for her to catch._

_Five minutes into that, the Satsuma segments found themselves submerged in the superb syrup, only a minute required to thoroughly coat each piece of fruit and let the flavours of the two mingle. After that, the pieces were put into a different bowl and the syrup was allowed to reduce even further to gain a delightful stickiness to it._

" _Ah, you've let the meringues cool in the oven." Hisako realised, harry giving a small smile as he opened the over door. Once he knew they were properly cooked for the whole length of time, he hadn't bothered to take the wreath out, instead simply turning off the oven completely. "Unlike a shorter time limit with a higher heat to create a chewy centre, you used that method to dry them out completely and form a more firm structure for the end dessert."_

" _Exactly Miss Arato," Harry answered as he stopped the mixer once more, double cream alone, 300 millilitres, being whipped up to stiff peaks. A generous amount of that whipped cream was placed on top of the meringue wreath, as well as the now sweet and sticky Satsuma segments before a sprinkle of toasted almonds and small springs of mint finished off the decoration, Harry moving the dish before Hisako with a drizzle of the now cool and reduced syrup to end. "There, a perfect meringue wreath with syrup Satsuma. A perfect festive treat."_

* * *

"Her reaction… well, it was enough to make sure I got into Totsuki, to say the least." Harry weakly finished with an awkward chuckle, pretty much everyone in the room thinking the same thing.

'How did she react to make him act like that?'

"Anyway, I think I'll turn in early for the night. Have fun you lot. I've got some stuff to tend to." Harry stated, standing up with a small bow to the room as he began to make his way towards the door.

"Aw, can't you stay a little bit longer? It's not as if we've been given any homework to do." Ryoko questioned. Harry merely gave a small apologetic shake of his head, a mischievous glint entering his eyes.

"My apologies, but what I want to do is a little… time-sensitive."

* * *

Thankfully, there were no further questions and he had managed to make sure that whatever potions he was preparing continued their schedule right as planned. Harry had no idea how he would even begin to try and explain just how his briefcase decided to suddenly explode in the middle of the room.

With that out of the way and a good night's rest, the English boy decided to escape the dorm early and get a better look at some of the different posters plastered along the wall. Research societies, the closest equivalent that Totsuki had to clubs; Harry had always wanted to join a club, but… circumstances meant that he had never really been able to spare the time and when he went to his new school, there were simply no clubs to join apart from things like the sports team and the choir. _Harry_ didn't even trust himself in a choir.

There was an incredible variety to the posters, covering practically every single topic you could ever hope to research when it came to food; there were clubs for seemingly every country, for all sorts of different ingredients and techniques even research societies for the various equipment you could use and the techniques associated with them. If Harry was perfectly honest with himself, it all seemed a little overwhelming.

"Something simple…" Harry muttered as his eyes darted around the wall; he wanted to be there before the others got there, if there were any others. After all, from what he heard from the excited talk when students came back from their holidays to enter the high school division, a large portion of students had already entered clubs during junior high and never bothered looking for others. "What's this then? A confectionary RS? Sure, why not?"

Admittedly, Harry always had a sweet tooth, especially when treacle tart just so happened to be before him. A place that specialised in finding different forms of confectionery and sweets was bound to show him something he could never learn about by himself and thus, Harry went about trying to find the classroom dictated upon the poster. Each of the Research Societies had been given the first half of lessons to demonstrate themselves to anyone willing to join them and bring them up to speed or re-familiarise those who were already members, which meant that Harry had little to worry about as he passed by classrooms with people already cooking happily.

Test kitchen five… hello? I was wondering about the confectionary RS." Harry called through the door, only to hesitate slightly when he saw that there was only one person; a tiny little girl, purple hair styled to look like cat ears and green eyes staring intently downward. She was originally trying to decide what to create with the ingredients before her, only for her expression to foul as it landed upon Harry before quickly turning away. "…Um, I was hoping I could join the Society."

"…"

"Um, if you wish, I can make something. Prove myself to you." Now that managed to catch her attention, if the smallest of quirked eyebrows meant anything. Well, at least he was getting _somewhere_ with this." My name's Harry Potter. If you want, you can set the requirements, miss…?"

"…Momo. Momo Akanegakubo." That was how you get people's attention in a place like Totsuki. Phrase it in a way that meant they could have a challenge if they wanted and quite a few people would take you up. Whether it was to gauge the ability of the competition or simply watch someone lose a challenge they couldn't hope to succeed in changed from student to student. "This club – Momo's. _Alone_. Can only join if you beat Momo. Any dessert."

Ah, a girl of few words. Well, the challenge seemed reasonable enough – there was no reason to deny entry to someone who could best the club president after all.

"Sure, I'll take the challenge. Any dessert you say?" that was a wide choice and thus, he had to be careful with what he picked. If he chose something too simple, then he would have to keep the highest of quality, whereas if he did something too complex, there was a risk of a single mistake causing the flavours to go out of balance. Almost immediately, Momo leapt into action and had already selected several different ingredients – she wasn't messing around. "Well, if you can't make a choice might as well go with option C!"

1.2 litres of double cream was placed in a mixer to whip up to soft peaks, Harry mixing in 2 tins worth of condensed cream into the cream until a wonderfully sweet ice cream mixture was prepared. Admittedly, it wasn't the traditional method used to make ice cream and it certainly couldn't be considered healthy by any measure of the term, but it would make a delightfully light and creamy ice cream without the need for constant churning. While he moved his mixture into a trio of bowls. Harry spared a glance to the side, just a little peek to see what his competition was doing, only for the English boy's eyes to widen.

While it was on a far smaller scale, Momo was doing the same method; though with only 300 millilitres of double cream and 200 grams of condensed milk, it was still forming the same ice cream base, only for the purple-haired slip of a girl to take out a scoop of the mixture, a dark rough paste being mixed in with the scoop before being returned to the first bowl to incorporate fully. What had there been before on the table that could make a mixture of that colour…!?

"You've incorporated tahini and black sesame seeds into a paste!" Harry exclaimed, Momo barely sparing him a second glance as she nodded. The amount one would need to provide a suitable flavour for such a sweet treat was incredibly specific, a tablespoon of tahini and perhaps 4 tablespoons of black sesame seeds. "Tahini's usually used as a condiment for savoury dishes. I would've never thought to use it in a sweet dish. That's a great idea!"

Unlike the adventurous choice of his opponent, Harry had settled for a more traditional flavour, or better put, three flavours. Into one of the three bowls, the seeds of a single vanilla pod were scraped in. in another went 150 grams of strawberries blitzed up to a shining puree that would give the second bowl a beautiful colour. Into the third, 100 grams of melted dark chocolate. They would both need a fair amount of time to let that freeze, but there was no rush with lessons off.

Not that either of the two would let that stop them, not with so much left to do. For Momo, she immediately began combining 100 grams of unsalted butter, softened, 100 grams of caster sugar and half a tablespoon of vanilla extract, 100 grams' worth of eggs entering one at a time into the beaten fluffy mixture and being beaten in before in went a combination of 90 grams of self-raising flour, half of a teaspoon of baking powder and 2 tablespoons of matcha powder. Once the whole thing reached a beautiful combined green colour, the cat-eared girl tipped the mixture into a 20x20cm baking tin lined with greaseproof paper, ready to bake in an oven heated to 180 degrees Celsius.

During this period, Harry couldn't afford to drag behind. In the same time, he was mixing together a teaspoon each of icing sugar and cornflour to dust onto a baking tray, a saucepan with 200 millilitres of water meeting 400 grams of caster sugar and 30 grams of liquid glucose. It was maybe the most difficult aspect of the entire dish harry had planned; if a single part of the dessert was ruined, then it would fall apart and this was the aspect that had the highest chance of failing. Hence, Harry was careful as he tipped in 9 sheets of gelatine along with the 150 millilitres of water they had been soaking into the mixture.

Moving over to the mixer, 2 egg whites were whisked up to stiff peaks, Harry moving the whole thing down to a slower speed before carefully adding in the sugar syrup with the utmost concentration. Once that was done, a vanilla pod's seeds entered and it was left to beat for ten minutes, leaving the whole thing glossy and cooler. In the time it would take for the ice cream to freeze, the mixture would cool and solidify in its dusted baking tray.

200 millilitres of water. 200 grams of caster sugar. No matter what her opponent was doing, Momo couldn't afford to be distracted. 120 degrees Celsius; let it cool down slightly. In the time it took, whisk together 4 egg whites and half a teaspoon of cream of tartar in a mixer to soft peaks. 110 degrees Celsius; transfer the syrup into the mixer. After that, continue to whisk until stiff and glossy. With the precision and skill that Harry saw between his own work, it was as if he was going against a true professional – not that Harry ever doubted it. Size or attitude meant nothing, one had to have skills if they wished to be the president of a club dedicated to it in a place like Totsuki.

Set one: 200 grams of plain flour, 20 grams of cocoa powder, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, half a teaspoon of salt, 125 grams of caster sugar, 75 grams of dark brown sugar, 100 grams of dark chocolate chips, 125 grams unsalted butter, softened, 1 teaspoon of vanilla paste, 1 large egg.

Set two: 175 grams of dark chocolate, 25 grams of unsalted butter, 150 grams of double cream, 175 grams of golden syrup, 50 grams of soft dark brown sugar, 25 grams of cocoa powder, a quarter teaspoon of salt, half a teaspoon of vanilla paste.

Harry let out a small cheer as he went work, multitasking as best he could to finish up. If Harry recognised just what Momo was planning to make, then she was almost finished and just waiting, whereas he still had two more things to finish. All of the dry ingredients from set one wer4e combined within a bowl before the wet ingredients joined them, a beautifully brown dough forming. Tablespoon sized blobs would take around 11 minutes to bake, with five minutes to cool, in an oven preheated to 175 degrees Celsius. That was followed by everything from set two save for the dark chocolate, entering a small saucepan to simmer while Harry rapidly chopped the dark chocolate. In five minutes' time, the chocolate was placed in and it was left to melt down upon medium heat. For both of them, all that was left was to simply wait for freezing time before they could assemble.

"Do you set this kind of challenge for anyone who wants to join this RS?" Harry questioned as they waited around – while they had been working, only the smallest comments were necessary, but now they had the chance to really talk. Not that Momo cared to, not even meeting his eyes. "It would make sense, you're skilled from the things I've seen, few would be able to beat you."

"…Yeah." Came the short clipped response, both Momo and the purple cat doll she was carrying. From what the boy had seen, the doll hadn't been dropped for a single moment where it wasn't necessary no matter how much additional hassle it caused.

"…What's his name?"

"…Bucchi."

"He seems like a good friend; he's been helping you with your cooking. Is that why you're so skilled?" Harry's sudden questioned caused both girl and doll to start for the moment, resulting in the two turning in almost sync to look into Harry's eyes for a brief second. Well, it was a start Harry supposed. "I'm sure you're really good alone, but you two together make food that's even better than you could do alone. I feel like a lot of people could serve to learn that lesson from you."

Momo didn't formulate a response, she didn't _know_ how to respond to something like that. Normally, the first response was for people to mock Bucchi, calling him childish and unnecessary. This was the first time someone was all that accepting of him, no, praising him… not even the others were willing to do that.

She shuffled slightly, providing Harry with the slimmest glimpse of something he did not expect to see. Before the purple-haired girl could even react, Harry's hand gently gripped Momo's wrist, a short sharp gasp of shock escaping her. There wasn't any hesitation before she started to immediately attempt to draw her arm back, shuffling backwards as much as she could to try and escape the boy's hold. It was useless though, for even with harry caught off guard, he didn't let go as the two of them slammed into one of the unused ovens, the English boy placing his other hand behind her back to prevent her from such a harsh collision.

"No, let go! Let me go!"

But it was too late.

Harry let out a deep breath as he looked upon the bare flesh revealed to him, Momo going limp in his arms. The boy's fingers traced the scars still fresh upon the length of her forearm, clearly leading up further than either of them would be comfortable with, not that the purple-haired girl was exactly reacting well to what he was seeing at this point.

Before Harry could do anything else though, his hands were finally shaken off, Momo practically hyperventilating as she pushed Harry back with as much strength as she could. Bucchi was pushed before her like a protective shield, the purple doll practically looking as angry as its master as the girl spoke.

"Get out! You fail, you lose, never come here again!" Harry looked skyward; the clock read that he had around twenty minutes left on his timer and the rest of his prepared ingredients were still sitting there ready to be combined. In mere moments a plan was formulated and a sigh escaped Harry's lips.

"Well, it would be a shame to let everything we've made up to this point go to waste. I'll give it about twenty minutes and then I'll come back. Will you accept me back in?" the boy explained, about to hold a hand out to Momo before he noticed just how she cringed back from the appendage. "Sorry, I got curious and did something horrible. I'll leave now."

Momo didn't respond as the door closed, merely clutching Bucchi closer as tears pricked the edge of her eyes. She had let her guard down, she had been blinded to the challenge and forgot just why her so-called research 'society' only consisted of a single person. Not even the people of the elite ten bothered interacting with her much thanks to the attitude she put on and no one proved willing to join when they realised they would have to beat Momo in one step below a shokugeki. After being so isolated, she had thought no one would learn about it.

" _You call this a dish!? It's pathetic! Once more, and do it right this time, you useless bitch!"_

A shiver passed down Momo's back. No, she had already proved herself. She had become the uncontested superior student in the art of desserts. She hadn't slipped up too many times in her first year, she didn't have to go through that for ages. Maybe he would change his ways _this_ year.

" _You think you have the right to eat when you can't even cook dishes worthy of a diner!? Until you're one of the best fucking chefs Totsuki has ever seen, you'll keep cooking! Don't disgrace our name!"_

A low rumble passed through Momo stomach as a groan passed her lips. Ah, she hadn't eaten in a while. Even if she was skilled in the art of desserts, she couldn't live off them forever and she would have to go back home if she wanted food; she had no money to buy anything else.

Quickly, any tears that formed were wiped away and Bucchi held before her face, the doll being lowered to reveal a stoic visage once more at the sound of a door creaking open. Had so much time passed already? Before Harry could even react, Momo had turned around to completely ignore him, both paws on Bucchi being viciously ripped off to act as oven gloves as she withdrew her cake, ready to cool down. She couldn't afford to screw up.

Admittedly, when Harry walked back into the room, he hadn't been expecting to see such a violent act from the young girl. If his suspicions were correct, however, it may not have been her who first came up with the idea… but he had more important things to worry about first., his fist clutching around the bottle of brown liquid.

"Hey. I've got something I think might help with _that."_ Harry explained, holding forth the bottle to Momo's back, that refused to turn towards him. When he saw that wasn't enough, he didn't respond, merely letting the sound of rustling fabric gain Momo's interest. Hesitantly, she let her eyes turn slightly, only for a moment of confusion and then growing realisation fill her face.

Several different marks marred Harry's back, crisscrossing in so many ways, none of them looking at all friendly. Though she was no medical genius, Momo could still tell that some of them were old and some relatively fresh, but as soon as Harry tipped the smallest amount of the brown liquid over them, the youngest of the wounds immediately began disappearing. Momo couldn't believe her eyes; it was impossible, but they were healing in what seemed like seconds.

"We're more alike than you think. Let me help you. Let me heal you."


	3. The coming shokugeki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On confectionary and cheating.

"There are two ways people deal with this sort of thing you know. Either they desperately latch onto the people who show them affection to try and fill the void made by those who hurt them, or they push anyone and everyone away, in hopes that they either don't get hurt, or they don't end up hurting you." Harry remarked gently as he began to rub in the essence, Momo sitting in silence as she watched the scars that marred her arm begin to fade away. It wasn't an immediate transformation, but it was perhaps even more transfixing to watch as the horrible flesh returned to what it once was. "I won't dig into how you ended up like this until you want to tell me, but I'm not just going to sit around while someone's hurt."

"…" what was Momo meant to say? She had expected this day to be the same as it had been ever since she started the confectionary RS back in her third year when she first escalated to her position within the elite ten. She would come in, get a bit of baking done, go to lessons and continue perfecting her craft, but then this… the purple-haired girl wasn't sure how to describe him, but he waltzed in and decided to casually reveal something she had managed to hide from everyone. And then he had revealed his own scars…

"You see, I got into cooking because my family were too lazy to do their own. They figured if they could push it onto the freak, then they should. I was cooking from an age where no one should be forced to cook so much." Harry softly explained as he moved to the other arm. His touch, there was something to it that Momo couldn't explain; combined with his voice and the soothing sensation of whatever it was that he was using on her, the purple-haired girl didn't even care that she still wore Bucchi's hands as her oven gloves, or that she had abandoned the doll at the side temporarily. "I burnt myself a lot with the oil and trying to handle a frying pan at too young an age and whenever it happened and the food got delayed, I usually faced harsh punishment. Sometimes, when my uncle drank too much, he just skipped the excuses and just went straight for the belt. Eventually though… cooking started to become something I could enjoy. It was about the only thing I could enjoy in that place."

"…Momo was too short. Not pretty. My parents wanted a trophy daughter, Momo wanted to become a baker. They decided if they couldn't have the trophy daughter, they'd at least have the best chef, not just baker, possible." It wasn't the most eloquent way to put it, but it was the truth nonetheless, nothing more and nothing less than was necessary. Still, Harry felt he was making some leeway. After all, she had barely been willing to look him in the eye before and even though she wasn't now, she was at least willing to not react to him being so close. Momo's tone had softened too from its previously competitive and cold demeanour. "If Momo doesn't perform well… I still get married off to the man who would bring the most to my family's design company. If they discouraged me, Momo would give up, they'd win."

"…Well, let's not dwell on the dark stuff any longer than we have to. After all, we have some wonderful sweets waiting for us, right?" Harry prompted, receiving a small nod as Momo silently returned to Bucchi, placing his detached paws next to him as she began to try and get back in the competitive spirit she had before.

With a careful hand that didn't falter in the face of the confrontation she just had, the green cake was sliced into circles the same size as the bowl of ice cream that she quickly drew out of the fridge; compared to Harry, who needed his to be soft enough to scoop and enjoy to the fullest, her dessert required the ice cream to be as cold as possible, coming out of the bowl as a solid dome that sat atop its base of came. Then came the meringue mixture that was spooned over the top of the whole dome until it was fully coated, carefully pulling and twisting her spoon to ensure there were plenty of odd and beautiful peaks around to create a beautiful as well as delicious dessert. Those were the areas after all that would become the crispest when she suddenly took a blow torch to the outside, scorching it until most of the meringue was beautifully toasted. With a little sprinkle of match powder on top, she was done.

Unlike Momo, who had gone for a dessert that naturally lent itself towards elegance, Harry's dessert was decidedly far dirtier. No need for an elegance beyond the careful hand the boy required when making the perfect ice cream sandwiches with part of his ice cream and cookies, as well as cutting a large cube of the marshmallow he had. A glass was dipped into the fudge sauce and carefully returned upright to make a messy rim of chocolatey, fudgy deliciousness with additional chocolate sprinkles decorating the side. Three different flavours of ice cream, vanilla, chocolate and strawberry, were loaded into the glass in alternating layers along with more chocolate sauce, the rest of the cookies broken up and slices of strawberry, the ice cream sandwiches and marshmallow sitting prettily on top, as well as they could without falling. In no time at all, the two students were faced with a pair of dazzling baked Alaska and two glasses of… um… Neopolitan-cookie-choco-mallow sundae… things…

"Admittedly, mine's not the prettiest looking thing, but I think it has my own special magic touch to it. Do you want to try it?" Harry asked, pushing a glass with a pair of spoons over the counter. Momo at first wasn't too sure what she was meant to do with the second spoon at first, only later realising halfway through her first mouthful that it was a spoon for Bucchi. Even those who hadn't mocked Bucchi never went so far as to treat him like an actual living being like Momo did.

"…It's good." Momo praised. It took a certain kind of skill to make so many different desserts without compromising on the texture or flavour of a single one and from what Momo could taste, there was absolutely nothing wrong with what he put forth; as the resident master at Totsuki when it came to sweets, her approval was certainly no small gesture. The ice cream was rich and creamy without being too overpowering, the chocolate sauce leant a slight bitterness to offset the intense amount of sugar and even alone, the marshmallow and ice cream sandwich were excellently made. Though some might consider it far too indulgent to have them all together, as a special treat, it was particularly wonderful to enjoy. "The flavours work together. The texture is nice. Everything has been made well. It's good."

"I think I'm kind of proud of it. It's the first dish I've ever really made as part of a competition, I just hope it stands up to your dish." Harry praised as he lowered his spoon. After all, they both had made more than enough for them each to have their own; Harry had made enough for four at least and planned to take some for his friends to enjoy, while baked Alaska was a dish to share at the size Momo made them. Perhaps if he asked really nicely, he could introduce Momo to the rest of his friends over desserts. "Should we have a try of yours then?"

"Sure." And so she got out a slice and put it onto a plate, perfectly cutting through the baked Alaska before handing it off to Harry. Thanks to how the meringue was simply torched, the inside of that layer was still perfectly soft, while the cake itself was light and fluffy and the ice cream looked smooth and perfect. Harry excitedly took a small spoon of it all and placed it into his mouth.

It was beyond words.

There was simply no comparing it to the dish Harry had put forth; if his was the epitome of comfort through combining so many desserts into one, this was the ultimate form of elegance and grace through careful precision and scientific measures. The Italian meringue was perfectly made, the difference of utilising a sugar syrup in the formation of the meringues resulting in a completely different form that was far more satin-like and light, while the ice cream held a unique flavour Harry had never come across due to the addition of tahini and black sesame. Paired with the powerful matcha flavour of the cake beneath and odd, yet complementary texture that came when you ate them all together, it was as if the English boy was being taken away to a sublime winter wonderland, a relaxing green tea in hand. Only one bite was needed to make him feel such a way as well, continuing to eat would surely make the feeling last longer. It was like comparing lead to diamond; perhaps in time, Harry could've made himself match the sheer brilliance that was Momo's dish, but as he was now, they were simply entire worlds apart.

"It's way too delicious to describe with words…! Everything works so beautifully together in the mouth, the texture is marvellous; I can't stop myself from going in for more!" Harry exclaimed as he happily worked towards finishing his plate. He never called himself the god tongue, but he could be picky about food at times – there was simply nothing he could fault about the entire dish. With a laugh, harry eventually lowered an empty plate to the tale, moving to start his dishes. "Well, I think there's a clear winner here. I'm sure if I take the time, I can find another RS that'll take me in."

With everything he used sitting on the drying rack draining, Harry made his way to the door once more – without a reason to return this time. The deal had been clear from the start: Momo wanted to have the club to herself and she would unless Harry managed to make a dish that was able to surpass her own. Even in fifty years, Harry doubted he could ever surpass that kind of display. It was only when he felt a small paw upon his hand, held there by delicate fingers when he stopped his advance, turning around to find Momo almost hiding behind the body of Bucchi, the girl having to hold on the doll's hands to ensure they stayed in place.

"You can join Momo's RS… but Momo's in charge." The girl hesitantly spoke out, surprising Harry slightly before a chuckle escaped him, waving off her clear concern as she pouted at the laughter. "I need more friends… so, might as well start here."

"That's reasonable enough I suppose," Harry answered, giving a firm salute as he moved away from the door. "My name's Harry Potter, one of two transfer students in the first year! It's a pleasure to meet you, please look after me!"

"Momo Akanegakubo, third year. Club president of the confectionary RS and third sear in the elite ten." Came Momo's reply, Harry nearly doing a double-take at the final aspect of her title. She was a member of the elite ten, literally the best students that Totsuki had to offer who were almost unrivalled in their fields as students? There was only one way for Harry to react at that moment – he laughed. He laughed and laughed and though it was only small, a smile even appeared on Momo's face, a thing rarely seen by the students of Totsuki.

"I tried to challenge an elite ten member, and the third seat at that… thank goodness this isn't an actual challenge."

"Sorry I didn't end up doing this with the rest of you Satoshi. I tend to wake up early and wanted to get my club secured first." Harry said as he watered the strawberries. Apparently, the second year had become more than used to missing lessons to tend to the great farm that Polar star was running and so had been the only one around when Harry returned from the confectionary RS, the rest all busy handling their clubs while Megumi helped Soma find one of his own. As soon as the boy turned his head, Harry rapidly sprinkled his special fertiliser on the plants before him; though there was only so much he could cover between the conversation, he could return that night and finish the rest of the job. The combination of dragon dung, bones, plimpy eyes and kelp would make any plant incredibly healthy and delicious. "If it weren't for you, I'd never think this was all done by students."

"It's a special luxury we can afford thanks to our positioning in the forest; the road to good food is paved with good ingredients after all," Satoshi explained, the second year inexplicably changed from his quite modest farming outfit to pure a fundoshi and the bandana he wore on his head. If it weren't for how there wasn't a trace of magical energy to be found in Satoshi, then Harry would've sworn the brunette was a wizard with how he did that. "You could even call that our dorm's motto. Everyone has their own special space in which to work, but this together, where we can properly understand where our produce comes from, is something entirely special! That reminds me, we have a spare plot of land you can use if you wish to make your own contribution."

"Really? That would be great!" and because it was so deep into the forest, it meant that Harry had plenty of land to work with; when the boy was shown just how much area he had to mess about in, almost a dozen different ideas were already flying through his head. "So, from what I've seen from the farm, the majority of the produce there is your rather standard material, tomatoes, potatoes, radish – stuff that, because everyone uses it, has to cater to everyone's needs. What I'm thinking is to grow a few more esoteric plants; herbs, flowers, fruit and veg that you don't normally use or can be hard to get in regular shops."

Or at least, that was what he was going to openly state was his intention with the plot of land. After all, a bit of subtle misdirection and a couple of spells here and there would make this the perfect place for nurturing some potions ingredients that were a little too hard to keep contained within the briefcase and that he couldn't get from his alternate source. Maybe if he planted enough flowers around, he could even get a beehive started, make some new breeds.

"That sounds wonderful, maybe you could even take requests. I'm sure that the others would promptly compensate you if you were to provide an easy supply of a specific herb for them." Satoshi remarked, only to hear a call from the distance from a familiar voice. "Ah, it seems that we're being beckoned from afar. Shall we return?"

They had barely even made it to the living room before they found the Totsuki Sport being thrown onto the table, Yuki's finger immediately gravitating to a small article with Soma's face gleaming right next to it. The redheaded boy had hovered momentarily by the door before he made a beeline to his room, head stuck deep within some sort of book.

"Hey guys, have you heard!? Soma already managed to get himself stuck in a shokugeki!" the orange-haired girl exclaimed, slamming her hand down on the student newspaper. "It's not even as if he just got challenged by any other first year, he's facing Ikumi Mito! They call her the meat master, no one can beat the sheer quality of her meat. If it's a shokugeki, then she's bound to bring out the best she has, Soma doesn't stand a chance!"

"I've been meaning to help, but there's simply too little time to come up with a suitable don to battle whatever Ikumi's making. Soma just immediately said he would take the place, but if he fails, then the don RS is done." Megumi added, the girl squirming in her seat. They couldn't just throw together any old kind of meal after all – a shokugeki was the symbol of Totsuki, the ultimate judge in a chef's ability that could practically lose you anything you owned or ever had the chance to own. The only option was to bring you're A-game and against someone who had managed to earn a title like meat master in a place like Totsuki, that would require something special. "Ah, Harry, you probably haven't heard of her. She's been able to get consistently high grades throughout junior high thanks to her skills with meat – her family runs a major meat producer, so she always has access to the best of the best ingredients and can handle them incredibly well. With a theme like don, that gives her full freedom to use whatever meat she likes."

"I see. If it had been something like a vegetarian theme, then you could've severely limited her capabilities. By trying to play to the RS' strength, you've also accidentally played to her own." Harry summed up with fingers to his chin and a small hum. Something like that wouldn't be so easily overcome. "Well, you could try an unadon or chukadon if you want to try and go against the meat don. If you can provide a greater flavour in a different area, that might be enough to sway the judges. A kaisendon would also allow for a lot of creativity in presentation as well as taste, if you want to go for the immediate wow factor."

"Actually, Soma already agreed that it had to be a meat don." Megumi interrupted meekly, a small drop of sweat rolling down Harry's forehead. So, the other transfer student wasn't going to make it easy on himself, was he? "We have two days to work on it, but only today had been reserved for RS activities. That means we'll only be able to work on the recipes at night."

"Well, you can't afford to give up. If you really can't find out anything special, ask me for a hand and I'm sure I can come up with something to improve the impact of your dish." Harry declared with a small smirk, only for it to fade slightly as Megumi's eyes lit up. "Only if you can't find anything yourself. I guess we have to have faith in Soma if he's willing to put himself on the line like this."

"Soma's proven himself creative enough to me. He'll make a breakthrough eventually… I just hope he can find it in time…" Satoshi muttered, staring out the window as an indescribable expression came over his face.

"Hey, Soma," Harry said as he stepped through the door. What was meant to be an extremely busy and cheerful research society dedicated to the art of the donburi had been left completely abandoned by all save for their leader, Soma and Megumi hard at work at the kitchen counter. While the blue-haired girl was rapidly chopping approximately one and a half onions into small pieces, the redhead was busy pounding away at a piece of sirloin steak; a large amount of muscle within the piece of meat meant that to make it tender and thus more appetising, it required a fair amount of tenderisation. "I was wondering if you had a plan for this Shokugeki of yours. Seeing as this is the first one I get to watch, I don't want it to be a friend losing to a bully."

"Oh, Harry! Yeah, I've got a plan." Soma called back, spreading the now thoroughly minced onions all across the mince, the onions getting into every nook and cranny of the grid-scored meat. "Chaliapin steak don. After thirty minutes, that steak will be beautiful! Well, it'll be really ugly, but you won't be able to find a more tender piece of meat anywhere!"

"A Chaliapin steak?" was that a Japanese thing? Harry had heard quite a few different styles of cuisine, but a large amount of that was European in style; save for a few dishes that the English boy had learnt, the absolute basic considering he was going to a Japanese culinary school, the vast majority of Japanese dishes still evaded Harry. "That's a surprisingly western name for a donburi type."

"Well, it's named after the famous opera singer Feodor Chaliapin!" Megumi excitedly explained. "When Chaliapin came to Japan on a tour in 1936, he was afflicted with a tooth issue that made his teeth highly sensitive. Therefore, he asked if he could have a tender steak which led to the creation of this dish!"

"Ah, that makes sense. After all, meat is more expensive here than at home." In England, while it certainly wasn't cheap at times, good tender pieces of beef were fairly easily acquired and thus, there was less of a focus on meat tenderisation. However, Japan had a more limited supply of beef and thus, every cut had a higher price to match. For those who didn't have a large amount of money to blow or were like Ikumi who could easily access beef, it was far simpler to purchase the tougher pieces that came cheaper and focus on how one could tenderise it. "I suppose that's one way to fight the high quality that Ikumi will be pushing. I guess that you don't need my help then?"

"Oh yeah, Megumi told me about the offer. Don't worry about it, even with a limited budget, I have everything I need!" Soma declared with a competitive smirk, removing the onions after the half-hour period had elapsed and sprinkling the steak with salt and pepper. A pan was quickly heated up, a tablespoon of butter melting down to coat the onions that were sautéed, then thrown ono a separate plate.

Then went in the steaks to brown, a wonderful scent floating all around the kitchen that had Megumi, Harry and the RS leader, Kanichi Konishi, practically drooling as they watched. When the steaks finished, they were quickly removed from the pan, 4 tablespoons of red wine entering the pan to deglaze and reduce. When the onions were once more introduced to the pan, it meant they were coated in the delicious sauce, only improved a soya sauce was added down the side of the pan and potato starch to thicken it into a magnificent sauce.

"Man, running low on ingredients… but we should have enough for the actual Shokugeki." Soma mused as he scooped out a bowl of rice, happily settling a steak o top along with a generous helping of the sauce and sautéed onions, letting it seep down into the rice. With a sprinkling of green onions, everything was ready, a steaming Chaliapin steak don sitting before them as Soma pulled back on his headband. "Come on then you lot! Give it a try!"

Well, they would be a fool not to. Harry only struggled with the chopsticks temporarily before they were situated nicely in his hands, yet even he was able to cut through the steak as if it were butter. It barely even touched his lips before a sudden squeal beside him caused Harry to pause, turning to where Megumi was completely lost in pure joy with only two words on her lips.

"So fluffy…!"

It practically melted in your mouth, letting all of the flavours coat everything with its delicious umami. The taste of the onions worked in perfect harmony with the meat thanks to being sautéed in a sauce made from its juices, the deep profile of the sauce itself elevating every element including the once plain rice that it had seeped into. This tender, melt in the mouth steak was the absolute pinnacle of the potential onions held, the enzymes within forming the most easily cut piece of tender steak you could imagine.

"That's great. It has to be a strong contender for sure!" Harry praised, happily helping himself to another bite and letting out a small hum of approval. Damn, he made a good choice of coming here that night.

"Should you really be here though Harry? Didn't you say you joined your own research society?" Megumi questioned as she delicately placed down her chopsticks, the boy giving a small shrug as he started spinning the utensils between his fingers.

"Well, we're waiting for our things to finish freezing and that takes a couple of hours even with us starting early. After I finished all of the other preparations, the president said I could come to check on you lot seeing as you had a Shokugeki coming up." Harry explained, quickly ushering Megumi to the other corner of the room before he carried on speaking in a low tone, reaching into his pockets. "Plus, I made sure to make something special to help you out. Ikumi's a special opponent, right? The fiercest meat fan you could ever face? That's not something you can easily beat, no matter how inventive you are."

"Well yes, but…" before Megumi could continue with her excuse, she found a small vial entering her hands, a clear liquid within shining in the setting sun's rays. If she hadn't seen for herself that this one vial would probably be able to do something incredible to a dish, then Megumi would've thought Harry wanted soma to put additional water into the steak. "This is…?"

"You know, a little potion that will make them want to keep eating more. You can't ignore any part of a dish after all, including the rice. Even when you taste the rice with the sauce, it doesn't make you want to eat all of the rice; you eat the steak and the top part soaked with sauce, but leave the rest." Harry slyly explained, a small smirk coming to his lips. "Knowing Soma, all he needs is a little prompt before he can come up with something to combat that issue; if you know what the twist is, you can add this to it and make the impact even stronger."

It was, in a manner, cheating, using an addictive that neither team would know about and Megumi understood that clearly. But the risks that were involved in the Shokugeki meant that there was no way they could afford to lose, lest they find the donburi RS completely destroyed and Soma losing his chance at continuing at Totsuki… Megumi was left completely torn as Harry closed her hand around the vial.

"I'll leave it to your decision. I need to go back and check up on my desserts!" Harry called out, whistling as he stepped out of the door with a cheery wave goodbye. Megumi could only stare blankly at the little vial that sat so innocently within her hand, only to immediately shove it into her pocket when she heard Soma hum from the side, chopsticks held in hand as he looked disappointedly towards the bowl before him.

"It's great, yeah, but… is it really enough to deal with Ikumi's meat?" Kanichi questioned as he lightly corrected his hair, having the front half of it attached merely through tape to hold its shape. The question had Soma shaking his head as his frown grew, glancing around the bare shelves that surrounded him – there was barely anything they could add even if they wanted to.

"No, wait! I have an idea!" Soma yelled to the sky, immediately throwing his hands into his pockets to dig for even the smallest bit of change. When his hands returned from their mining trip empty however, he was forced to turn to the one girl in the group, Soma grabbing Megumi's shoulders and making the girl yelp. "Megumi, I just need one more ingredient and everything will be ready for tomorrow! Can I trust you to get it for me!?"

"Y-yes!" she responded, barely able to control her face. So, Soma really was that easy to predict and now she was being put in the perfect position to enact Harry's plan… all Megumi could do was nod dumbly as Soma explained what she needed to get, leaving and giving a sigh just outside the door. What she needed to get in and of itself wasn't all that difficult and with barely a few minutes gone, she had already made her way to the closest store and brought a jar's worth of the stuff. No, it was whether she was willing to break open the lid and add in the potion she had been given.

It was a question of whether her morality and trust in Soma were greater than her desire to ensure that the don RS was allowed to exist and Soma stayed at any cost. She didn't want to see any of her friends forced to leave the school on such unfair terms and even if it was for food that was considered as barely fast food, to be so callously destroyed was a fate the don RS didn't deserve. On the other side, there was a perfectly reasonable chance for the redhead to succeed purely on his own merits and placing that potion in the jar would be stating that she had no faith in that regardless of whether Soma knew about it or not.

With a deep sigh, Megumi made her choice.

"Soma Yukihira. You know him well." Momo stated as she pulled out the two glasses that were sitting in the freezer, purple sitting upon creamy white sitting upon rough-looking brown. If it were anyone else, they would've probably phrased it as a question to make it clear to the partner in conversation that they were being prompted to explain more, but even a short amount of time was enough for Harry to understand that Momo wasn't much for social conversational conventions.

"He lives in the same dorm as me, so we have a fair bit of conversation. He's a good chef, not the best conventionally, but good at finding twists to make his food unique. If it weren't for him, then our joint project probably wouldn't have been so successful." Harry answered. Using roasted new potatoes for a potato salad rather than boiled allowed for a complete texture to become prevalent in the dish while keeping full flavour while the tiny twists to the fish pie recipe demanded of them only made the result far better, especially when the pies were served individually in shells for presentational points. "I'm guessing then that you've got your eye on him for the shokugeki."

"Momo's not an idiot. He made enemies with his speech." The purple-haired girl replied, passing a spoon over to Harry as the boy flinched. Yep, that certainly hadn't done any favours – if he had at least said he would be the best of the year, then maybe he could've limited the damage, but he had said he would be number one period. That meant he had personally declared that he would beat everyone no matter what and none of the higher years would be able to resist such a challenge. "Too cocky. Won't survive a Shokugeki."

"Come on, have a little faith in him. He just might surprise you." Harry jokingly replied, dipping his spoon into the creamy cheesecake sat before him. It wasn't just a normal cheesecake, however; though a normal tongue wouldn't be able to tell it purely from just the taste, the main cheesecake mixture had been augmented by the inclusion of tofu in their experiments in how to utilise savoury ingredients in a sweet dish. It meant that a perfectly fine cheesecake was elevated to another level with a mouthfeel that transcended any other form of cheesecake without any compromise in flavour. While the main body excited the tongue through its usage of coconut milk and white chocolate, with additional coconut oil in the biscuit base, the thin purple layer sitting just above resulted in a bright wave of blueberry, the sweet sensation sending you on a wonderful journey as if waltzing down a blueberry laden forest. "Ah, that's mission success."

"…Should've made own biscuits." Momo muttered, unimpressed with the choice that Harry had suggested. The boy merely gave a small hum in response, looking to the side and snatching one of the oat-based biscuits.

"You said it yourself, this was merely an experiment and the focus was more on the cheesecake element itself. Wasting good biscuits on a failed experiment would just be a waste of money and ingredients, as well as time." Harry said, taking a large bite out of the biscuit with a sigh. While his stated excuse was more than reasonable to him, there was also a small reason that Harry didn't want to say out loud. While he had spent a fair amount of his life in England, he had also spent a good few years in a place that meant that Hobnobs were incredibly hard to come across. While many more… adventurous options were made available to him at that time, there were the odd occasions where he found himself desiring some of the good old non-magical English treats. But that didn't mean… "With that experiment done, what's next president?"

"We've still got time…" Momo decided, putting Bucchi aside for a moment as she picked up the list that had been abandoned upon the worktop. Several suggestions in a beautiful tight script sat next to messy scrawls and it was pretty clear which one was which when you looked at just what they were suggesting, Momo squinting in confusion as she tried to decipher the mess that was Harry's handwriting. "Pumpkin… juice? Who juices a pumpkin?"

"Well the research societies are about experimenting, right? Typically, the pumpkin is used in savoury ways and the only way it is used in a sweet dish is pumpkin pie. There has to be other ways to use it." Harry explained with a grin. Well, he already knew there were other ways of using pumpkin, seeing as he had already tasted pumpkin juice and new that it was a delicious drink, even if it could be a bit overwhelming to have it every day. However, it was all made using magic means and by house-elves at that; they proved rather determined not to share their recipes and probably used magical ingredients that were difficult for him to just guess by eye and taste. Hopefully this way, Harry could be the one to introduce pumpkin juice to the non-magical world. "I'm thinking a combination of apple cider as the liquid along with pureed pumpkin, vanilla, sugar and the kind of spices they use in pumpkin pie. That should keep the whole thing sweet with a hint of spice while pushing forth the pumpkin flavour."

The recipe had potential, weird as it was. Momo hadn't bothered with pumpkin before – if you asked her to make you a pumpkin pie, then she would be able to easily push out one that was beyond anything else you could ever imagine, but to make a drink out of it? This was completely new territory. Though her face remained stoic as she gave a tight nod and went to ensure that they had the ingredients necessary to go forth with the experiment, Harry let out a chuckle.

She was enjoying herself and he knew it.


	4. The awkward encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On meat and magic.

"So this is the extent of a Shokugeki…" Harry muttered as he tried to get to his seat; the sheer number of people surrounding him was boggling, the various snippets of muttering and curses that the boy could make out through the cacophony all focused on one thing and one thing only. "Everyone's here just to see Soma get beaten, I guess I should've seen that coming…"

If it weren't for the lack of ropes and the cooking equipment stationed on the stage, there was very little to differentiate it from what was essentially a boxing match. There was even a huge neon screen hanging just above the action, poised to display every inch of the action that occurred. Especially with how rowdy the crowd was, Harry couldn't help but feel as if a brawl was about to break out – it was a perfect exemplification of just how Totsuki viewed the world of cooking.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the administration has deemed this an official Shokugeki!" a drop of sweat fell down the English boy's forehead. Dear lord, they even had an announcer to commentate the whole thing. "For those who haven't heard of me, my name's Urara Kawashima, a first-year here to host this grand event!"

Harry winced as he covered his ears. The roars around him suddenly became deafening and after a few moments' listening in, the black-haired boy was certain it wasn't out of excitement for the match. That sense of disbelief only grew when he caught sight of a group of girls upon the other side of the arena, a sheer wall of dark emotions forming around them; maybe Harry needed to rethink his expectations.

Maybe there was going to be a brawl.

"Now, the contestants will enter the ring! And the first to enter… the magnificent, the marvellous – meat master Ikumi Mito!" and with the tanned blonde's coat flying off into the crowd, the meat master herself was revealed in what Harry thought was one of the worst violations of the school dress code possible. There was adding your flair and then there was completely ditching the uniform in favour of shorts that were far too short and quite literally a bra with flames upon them. If the crowds had been going wild for Urara, they were about to stampede at the sight of Ikumi and she was drinking it all in. "And here comes the other contestant… Soma Yukihira, the transfer student no one will stop talking about!"

The reaction was nothing like Ikumi's. Appreciation was soon traded for yelled insults and boos, Harry sinking deeper into his seat; the anger ran far deeper in the student body than he had been expecting, Harry thought they would at least stay ambivalent to the whole thing. No, the masses had made it very clear who they supported and even though Soma remained unaffected by it when he stepped out, his two teammates weren't exactly feeling the same way from their faces.

"Allow me to explain how this'll go down! The theme is Donburi, and the main ingredient is meat! Should Ikumi come out the victor, the Donmono Research Society gets shut down and Soma will be unfortunately expelled. Should Soma steal a win, then the Donmono RS will get a fund increase and their equipment will all be upgraded, with Mito even joining the RS! The stakes are high for this one!"

"…Ikumi is overconfident."

"Whoa, when did you get here Momo!?" Harry called out as he almost jumped into the next seat, the purple-haired girl unmoving as she stared down upon the contestants. With eyes firmly locked onto the boasting girl on stage, Momo threw a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth, or at least, Bucchi did. "I thought you couldn't be bothered to come to this."

"Erina decided to. Wanted to see what made her come." It was the perfect cue for many of the students to start gasping, Harry turning behind him to see the huge glass window overlooking the stage; upon a lone seat sat the tenth of the Elite ten, one of the most well-known - and already legendary in her own right - chefs, the granddaughter of Senzaemon Nakiri himself: Erina Nakiri. The bountiful blonde held no emotion to her face beyond distain, all of it focused on one thing only: Soma.

"Let us proceed then! Everyone, to your stations for what is undoubtedly going to be a fierce battle of the palates! Shokugeki… start!" and with that announcement, bags were quickly rustling as ingredients were pulled out, ready to be prepared at a moment's notice. There was no ignoring the stark contrast between the two options; whereas Ikumi had clearly spent a pretty penny ensuring she got everything she could at the highest quality, Harry had doubts over whether Soma had even prepared for the Shokugeki before five minutes until the match. The bag he carried betrayed the fact that it all came from the supermarket, and the meat had even been brought down to a discount – that didn't exactly speak for quality.

Not to mention the star of the show: Ikumi gave off a smug smirk as two men wheeled out almost an entire cow, the branding of A5 clear on the side of one leg. Her movements were like a choreographed dance, even with a knife as mighty as a cleaver in hand as she cut through the tendons of the meat. It was an incredible show of technique and before long, a luscious chunk was sitting on her table, like a prize trophy with how its fat and marbling shone under the light.

"Aged…" Momo muttered as a rich scent filled the entire area, some practically swooning as the smell of cooking meat lingered in the air. Harry had never even had the chance to look at meat that fine at home, let alone use it; with how stingy and gluttonous his relatives were, there was little doubt in the English boy's mind that it would be gone in seconds and that kind of quality wasn't for that kind of eating. "Slight sweet smell with the butter, comes with ageing. Released glutamic acid for umami."

"If it were a direct quality comparison, then Soma would be out of his depth even if she just decided to serve that chunk of meat," Harry muttered, watching as the redhead completed the mincing of his onions. The scent clearly wasn't enough to distract the chef, the headband tied around Soma's head flapping back and forth with the speed at which he moved. "But a chef can make even the worst of ingredients taste good in the right situation. Soma has something up his sleeve."

'And he still has my little help to assist him…' went through Harry's mind, though not his lips. It had been a relatively easy potion to brew up even in the confines of his briefcase. It was one that very few people actually learnt, seeing as the potion itself was marketed more as a joke product, a little push to help you eat the meals of relatives who weren't the best of chefs. Here, where three judges would determine whether Soma was allowed to stay in the school by how much they liked the dish? It was a game-changer.

There were several places which Megumi could've snuck the potion into; the soya sauce he used, the water that was being used to cook the rice, the red wine; hell, she could've even stuck into the butter if she wanted to. Combine that with Soma's actual skill and a recipe that was by no means bad and the gap between the qualities was easily narrowing by the second and from the looks of it, Ikumi was well aware of it. Whatever banter she had died upon her lips as the scent of the onions filled the air, returning to her own station so she could continue handling her meat.

"And time's up! Now, Ikumi's the first to bring her dishes up to the judges!" all too soon, a large bell rung out, all burners switched off as the final plating was finished. It was the make or break moment as Ikumi proudly brought forth her dish, a flower formed of meat blossoming over a bowl that practically overflowed with the scent of garlic and beef tallow. While alone, they were most certainly scents that you did not wish to smell, they together formed a beautiful harmony upon the nostrils, enticing the appetite the more you smelt it. The judges were easily entranced by the smell, like an eager audience listening to a pianist's symphony.

"Here, my A5 'Roti' wagyu beef don!" Ikumi proudly declared; Roti, the French term for roast, most commonly used to denote dishes that had been prepared within an oven. A dish so beautifully elegant and fancy deserved a name that demonstrated that and in the eyes of the judges, that beauty did not go unnoticed. "Take a bite; this Shokugeki will be decided as soon as you do."

"I'm practically paralyzed by the flavour!" spoke the first of the judges, the famed president of Kuraki, a world-renowned Japanese traditional restaurant: Shigeno Kuraki. With hands held to her cheeks in bliss, it almost looked as if just one bite truly _would_ be enough to satisfy her, a situation Soma wanted to avoid at all costs; if the judges were unwilling to eat the redhead's dish, then it was all over. "A beautiful dish that tastes absolutely wonderful!"

"As expected, the A5 really does have the largest amount of umami you can imagine!" the next remarked in awe. As a black wagyu beef critic, Yoshiki Bito's judgement on meat was not to be trifled with and the dish before him passed muster by a mile. "It's been cooked until the internal temperature's at the perfect point, even the angle at which the meat is exposed to heat has been carefully calculated!"

It was a special attention to detail that none accept the most experience of chefs and scientists would ever incorporate into their styles; by taking into account the direction at which the heat is applied to the meat, the most significant angle being perpendicular to the meat's grain, heat would be applied more evenly throughout the cooking process. More juices would thus be released from within, allowing for the juiciest of meats.

"And beneath the petals! The garlic rice sautéed in beef tallow and butter is to die for!" not to be outdone, Prime Gourmet producer Katsunori Okamoto was quick to add in his praises, eagerly wolfing down his rice with unbridled glee. "I could eat three bowls of this on its own, it's an outstanding dish!"

"Soma… you better not fail now." Harry muttered. It was a perfect review – no, it was beyond perfection. The wonderful piece of art crafted by sensitive, yet strong hands looked to be unbeatable and the judges hadn't even tried Soma's dish yet. By his side, Momo didn't respond to Harry's voice, instead pushing Bucchi forward with the smallest glint of interest in her eyes.

"Well, this doesn't have a name yet… but how about 'Yukihira style Chaliapin steak don?'" if the judges weren't already lacking any confidence in Soma's food, they definitely weren't going to be inspired by the shaky introduction it was given by the chef.

"Chaliapin steak? So you've used onions to try and tenderise cheap meat." Yoshiki muttered, barely even looking to the bowl that was put before him. His job had him critiquing only the finest of meats possible; why should someone of his calibre be forced to even look upon a donburi like that? "I highly doubt anything could ever stand up to the bar set by the A5 wagyu beef."

"I mean, might as well just go home now, right? At least now I can keep savouring the flavour of the meat as it lingers in my mouth." Katsunori added with a small bout of laughter. That laughter, however, was immediately stopped as soon as Soma lifted the lid upon their bowls, a rich waft of smoke and smell filling their faces until they could hardly draw their eyes away from the mountain of sweet and savoury onions before them. "Um… Actually… perhaps there's some promise in this. Might as well give it a try."

"Hooked." and Momo's lone word statement was correct. The shocked expression on Ikumi's face was only matched in intensity by the pride on Harry's own as he watched the judges immediately dive into their donburi with reckless abandon, clearly unable to draw away from the delicious flavours before them.

"It's impossible to stop eating! I try to draw myself away, but the tender meat…!" Shigeno gushed, a blush of what seemed to be almost shameful desire marring her face as she continued to shovel it down her throat. For who had been the perfect image of ladylike grace from the moment she walked in, it was a stark contrast and the perfect sign of just how effective the dish was. "And it's not just that."

"That sauce! It's perfect for helping the appetite with the minced onions!" a powerful allure brought forth by the red wine used to deglaze the pan after the steaks had finished frying, which, when used to sauté the onions used to tenderise the meat, formed a marvellous sauce thickened by potato starch and fused with the delicate flavours of burnt soya sauce. What an amateur would consider to be a mistake had been leverage to Soma's advantage and when added into his sauce, it brought it to a whole new level as it coated the rice and steak.

"This hint of acidity, the subtle flavour that means you can't stop eating… could it be-!?" it appeared that Shigeno was the first to discover Soma's twist, a proud smirk appearing upon the redhead's face as he stepped forward with folded arms.

"Yep, the trick's all in the rice, thanks to this baby." Soma declared, unfolding his arms to reveal the small jar he held within his hands. "I made sure to add Umeboshi into the rice; call it refreshing plum rice!"

"So that's what was responsible for the refreshing aftertaste!"

"The texture of the meat is light, and the flavours' so fragrant!"

"The sauce is superb in creaminess and with the plum flavoured rice…!"

" _Each component enhances the others' flavours! You can't stop eating it!"_ if the way Ikumi handled her don made her a pianist, the Soma was shining as the orchestra's conductor. While each part may not have been as high in quality as Ikumi's Soma's careful handling and determination allowed them to come together magnificently, their flaws undermined by how brightly and beautifully they shone together. Even the grandest of symphonies would be beaten out by such a synchronised and harmonic display and as the judges placed down their bowls, they were openly eager for more.

Harry grinned.

"I've been wondering about what you would do for the rice. After all, everyone knows you as the meat master, but the topping's only half the battle." Soma remarked to Ikumi, the girl left frozen in place as she stared at only half-empty bowls of her own garlic rice. "You used beef tallow to amplify the flavour of the rice, but when you do that, you end up fighting the beef's natural umami. A real don has to be a complete package together in a bowl, and what you made doesn't make the cut. Ikumi, you tried to have a duel with me… But you ended up only fighting yourself."

"Shut up! I don't need that kind of twisted logic!" Ikumi growled, turning around only to find a fresh version of Soma's don right beneath her nostrils. It was clear what Soma was stating without words; with no reply of her own, Ikumi cautiously took the bowl for herself and gently, hesitantly, took a bite.

And then another.

With an almost shameful aura to her movements, Ikumi continued to eat more and more of the don before her, understanding clearly how each bite was like a punch to her reputation. But she couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop. It was as if the don was speaking to her very soul, saying how she didn't need to care about her reputation, that it was perfectly fine for her to just be herself. Ikumi wasn't the only one surprised when literal tears began to make their way down her cheeks. It was her loss.

"And in a surprising turn, Soma Yukihira is the winner with an absolute three to zero!" Urara announced, completely forgetting to remove her surprise from her voice as she did so. The few who cheered for his victory were blocked out by the shouts of surprise and outrage that filled the area. Momo only gave a small sigh as she saw how excitedly Harry cheered; it was almost as if he had his own part to play in the whole thing.

* * *

"Harry!" the black-haired boy had been about to return to the dormitory to prepare for the almost inevitable when he heard Megumi call out from behind, Harry walking backwards as he gave a small wave to her. "Thank goodness I managed to catch you in time!"

"Megumi, nice to see you three win down there! Harry excitedly answered. "So tell me, where did you put _it_? Was it in the wine? No, it has to be the Umeboshi paste with how the judges were reacting to it."

But his excitement was quickly cut off when Megumi thrust out her hands towards Harry, bowing her head at the same time. The confusion needed a few moments to settle in as he gently took the item held within Megumi's grip, unable to believe his eyes for a moment.

"I knew it was given to me to help Soma, but… I knew Soma could do it without cheating!" Megumi rushed out, looking almost guiltily towards the still very full potion vial she had returned to Harry. "N-Not to say what you were doing was bad or anything! I just...I felt like Soma could succeed without it..."

"…That's not a bad thing Megumi." Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he slipped the vial into his pocket. "It was just meant to be a small assist, I left that decision up to you. He succeeded, so you can't feel bad about that - you were right."

The blue-haired girl's expression suddenly brightened as she gave a quick nod, eyes sparkling as the guilt faded away. The fact that she didn't use the potion didn't change anything at all, it just made Harry all the more impressed with Soma's victory; the redhead had a special skill with pulling victory out of impossible situations it seemed.

"Well, now I need to think of a way to use the potion. It would just be a shame to leave it lying around." Harry muttered with a small chuckle, patting his side with a thoughtful expression upon his face. "I mean, I could use it if I ever get stuck in a Shokugeki, though I doubt I'd ever end up in such an extreme disadvantage."

"While there may not have been any bad intentions, using potions on muggles is not a thought to be so easily bandied about."

As soon as she saw Harry tense up, a confused Megumi poked her head around the boy's form, glancing at the strange old man stood behind Harry. His clothes… well, they certainly weren't anything anyone in this century would wear and in the most garish of colours to boot; pair that with the incredibly long beard and the odd twinkle in his eye and the blue-haired girl couldn't help but take a cautious step closer to Harry.

"I see that young miss…. Megumi, did you say? Yes, Miss Megumi hasn't got a dot of magic in her. Harry my boy, you should know very well that telling muggles not family relatives about the existence of magic comes with a very strict punishment." The old man continued, a slip of wood - a wand – coming out of his sleeve as he tutted. "Now, I'm fully aware that you had not reached a stage in your education where you could've learnt the obliviation spell regardless of your experiences with Lockhart, so allow me to put things straight. Then we can get you home safe and sound."

"Don't, Dumbledore. I won't allow it." Harry growled out, a tone so dull and lacking in emotion that Megumi had never heard come from the boy's lips. Usually, he was this excited charming figure, eagerly diving into whatever dishes he could do and explaining things beyond Megumi's wildest imagination. This, this was something on a completely different level whatsoever; it was as if someone had sucked all of the life from Harry's body and aged him drastically. "We've been doing this for years now, can't you finally just stop it and let me live my life?"

"Harry?" was all that Megumi could get out before the old man, Dumbledore, soberly shook his head, the twinkle present within his eyes never fading as his wand was raised. It was a situation that Megumi couldn't help but feel abstract fear about, but even with how hard Harry was subtly trying to push her to run away, the blue-haired girl couldn't help but find herself frozen in place. "You said you can't do magic in front of people right? We just have to stall until someone comes."

"Oh, don't worry, a mess like that is easily avoided with a muggle repelling ward. You'll find that no one will be taking this corridor for a good amount of time." Dumbledore placated, a quick flash of his wand causing the entire corridor to pulsate momentarily with a golden light. It was beautiful, yet Megumi could only feel a new bout of abstract fear run down the back of her spine. "As for your worries about holding the statute of secrecy, a remarkable knowledge considering one such as yourself shouldn't even know about magic in the first place, do not fret; you shall no longer remember this situation ever happening, you'll be back to school with all your other friends and Harry can return to the home he ran away from."

"Don't treat this as if it's just me being rebellious," Harry spoke up, turning with sheer anger emanating off him as he faced Dumbledore; the man's expression didn't become surprised, only forlorn as he watched the open deception before him. "Three years, Headmaster Dumbledore. Three years I've spent at Hogwarts and every single year, nothing has gone right. I've faced a troll and a teacher possessed by Voldemort, I've slain a Basilisk and stopped another form of Voldemort from killing Ginny and I avoided having my soul sucked out by dementors. My godfather, who did nothing wrong, is on the run because he can't have a proper trial to reveal his innocence unless he wants to lose his soul as well. All of this and you claim that Hogwarts was the safest place in the entirety of Europe?"

At that moment, Megumi fully understood for the first time why Harry had been so angry at the situation, turning to the headmaster of Hogwarts with an expression of open shock. Harry had only briefly spoken about the existence of such creatures and it had been a slightly terrifying experience. To know that he actually faced them? That put Harry on a different pedestal entirely. The look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the younger children was enough for Megumi to see just how much power Dumbledore truly held. There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.

''Enough," said Dumbledore. He said it quite calmly, and yet Harry fell silent at once; he knew that he had finally crossed some invisible line. "Do you think that I have once left the school unprotected during your time at Hogwarts? I have not. Every time there has been a risk, I have done my best to ensure that there was additional protection in place. Please do not suggest that I do not take the safety of my students seriously, Harry."

"…I'm not saying that. I'm saying that the protections weren't there in the first place – while you've tried to stop things from happening after they've occurred, there's quite a lot more you could've done to stop them in the first place." Harry countered once he got his bearings back. "You should've been able to tell that Quirrel was possessed, you should've known that the chamber of secrets was real and that the petrification was the result of a basilisk. You knew that Sirius was innocent, yet you've done nothing through the years to help him."

"Harry, I have made mistakes in the past, I will openly acknowledge that. But dark happenings have happened in the two years you have gone missing; the Dark Lord rises again and the wizarding world has no saviour to look up to. Morale is at an all-time low and even as we speak, Voldemort gains in power." Dumbledore tried, the power that came from him only growing in intensity. Megumi couldn't help but bring a hand to her throat; it felt as if she was going to choke any second. "You must return to Hogwarts and fulfil your destiny. If not, then the whole Wizarding world will be a sacrifice to a mad man."

"Why me!? There are so many more experienced, more talented, more skilled wizards than me! I refuse to be a soldier for people who will turn on me in a second!" Harry ferociously burst. "The only people I've really made true friends of is Neville and Hermione, the rest just go along with whatever the popular opinion is regardless of the truth and Hermione, I can still stay friends with even in the muggle world. No trust, no safety and very few friends – I'm seeing little reason to return compared to here."

"There are things I cannot tell you, Harry, things that would crush lesser men." Was the only excuse he received before Harry was forced to point his wand skyward, yelling 'reducto' so part of the corridor's roof would explode outward and fall to the ground, blocking the spell that would've struck the pair of them. The rubble blocked up most of the corridor, the barrier between them allowing Megumi and Harry to run away for safety while Dumbledore remained stuck on the other side.

The rightful thing to do would be to follow after him, as he had done for the past two years. He was a mere child, while an immense amount of innate skill and luck had allowed Harry to pull off feats that he had never expected of him, Dumbledore's skills were still in a completely different level to Harry. A simple blasting spell would remove the rubble and a quick duel would easily have Harry back in his forceful grasp and ready to return, an obliviation removing any memory of the past two years from his mind so something a bit more manageable could be put in its place. That was what Dumbledore's mind was yelling at him to do.

"Yet after the failed goblet of fire, I just can't seem to do it…" it had seemed like a master plan at the time; the Goblet of Fire was meant to establish an unbreakable contract with the one whose name was placed within the Goblet and Dumbledore's observations had revealed that was exactly what one death eater in disguise had been planning on doing. With careful control of the situation, he had allowed the death eater to enter the name and, according to the ancient magicks placed upon it, the Goblet of fire would theoretically form a contract with the person and if they hadn't been present to answer the call, they would've been forcibly called upon to answer lest they lose their magic.

Yet Harry had not made an appearance and from the quick display before him, he had clearly not lost his magic. It was as if everything in the universe was trying its best to prevent Dumbledore from ever sinking his teeth once more into the child and it was both infuriating and alarming. So many plans gone awry, what was meant to temper Harry into a skilled wizard who would be able to face down Voldemort only managing to alienate the boy until he could no longer stand the wizarding world. The whole situation was a sharp shock to the old man's system; his plans had always gone off without a hitch during Dumbledore's younger years and to see them backfiring so spectacularly was not something that the person most of the wizarding world praised had ever been prepared for.

"But then again, that reductor curse is far stronger than I remember Harry ever being capable of…" Dumbledore mused, waving his wand to cause the rubble surrounding to gently lift itself back into the gaping hole in the ceiling where it came from, sealing itself shut until it was as if nothing had ever happened there in the first place. "Japan is known for its more lax rules around magic, perhaps leaving him here to train would not be an unwise decision after all…"

Yes, perhaps Dumbledore could work with this. If the brute force method won't work, then might as well try and salvage what he could from this state of affairs. If Harry continued the way he was, then maybe Dumbledore could hide his presence and get Voldemort to focus his attention on trying to find Harry. The dark lord would waste his time trying to find the boy and it would give both Harry to the time to improve himself and Dumbledore the time to think of a method to try and remove the plague that had attached itself to the boy. It all hinged on if Harry continued to train himself, however…

"…Yes, that will work. Hopefully, my influence with the Japanese magic community hasn't faded too far." And then Dumbledore disappeared with a sharp crack, the muggle repelling ward disappearing along with him. sure, he failed to brute force Harry back as he had attempted over the past two years, but his indirect actions had allowed Harry to improve his skills in an attempt to defy him, a key objective had been destroyed and a new plan had been formulated.

Perhaps Dumbledore _did_ still have some mental skill in his old age.

* * *

Panting heavily, Megumi messily closed the top of the briefcase as they climbed down into Harry's second home, Harry falling flat on the sofa as soon as he did the blue-haired girl didn't even last that long, learning very quickly that Harry's carpet was remarkably soft when you landed face-first into it. It would take a moment before they even managed to get their breath back, let alone actually find the breath to say anything.

"You said… headmaster…?" Megumi finally coughed out, Harry giving a weak nod. All of the energy that the boy usually had was completely wiped out as he sank deeper into his seat.

"Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, one of the most famous and strongest wizards that have ever existed, as well as one of the people who risked my life the most," Harry said, defeated. Having brought his wand out to hammer down the roof, Harry could only raise it with a muttered spell, Megumi watching in silent awe as textbook after textbook flew across into Harry's grasp. There had been the odd occasion when Megumi actually got to see Harry brew his potions, the whole thing amazing to watch once she got past how odd some of the ingredients he used were, but seeing actual wand work beyond circles drawn above a potion to activate their magical effects were few and far between. That sense of amazement only grew as she looked into the textbooks, all sorts of spells detailed within. "If I stayed at his school, I would've eventually learned how to do all of this. Well, not all of it seeing as some of it is part of the optional classes, but most of it. Thing is, the school has put me in one life and death situation after another, and the one class that was meant to help in those situations have been useless save for my final year there."

"But why does he want you to return to that school so much? I mean, this isn't a magical school, but he was talking as if you were fated to stay there at all costs." Megumi questioned. It was like something ripped straight out of a fantasy book with the way Dumbledore spoke and acted.

"The difference is, this isn't a magical school. I am what the wizarding world know as the boy who lived, because when my parents were brutally murdered by a terrorist, I was the only one who survived and _somehow_ managed to kill the terrorist, even though he's managed to somehow come back. If the wizarding public learned that their so-called 'saviour' was attending a muggle, non-magical, school in japan, they would freak out." Harry explained. "You have to remember, these people are stuck in the old days. They extremely patriotic and believe that England and Hogwarts are the best the world has to offer. Being in Japan is heresy to them. Add that I'm showing that I'd rather act like a muggle rather than be a wizard and they're only more offended and scared, because only the boy who lived can save them all rather than the hundreds of more trained and skilled people who already exist. They assume I have some sort of special power that can kill the Dark Lord, but I don't. I've only managed to beat the many times Hogwarts has tried to kill me through sheer luck. They want me as their saviour, but there was a time when they all turned on me because I can speak to snakes, because they thought I was trying to kill everyone without any proof beyond that."

By the end of his rant, Harry was panting heavily, turning to Megumi as the girl gently clasped her hands around his own. For the briefest of moments, Harry noticed that the blue-haired girl's hands were remarkably warm, but then his attention was drawn to the amber eyes that were locked onto him. Something was growing within them, Megumi's expression becoming determined as she tried to find the words.

"Well, I… I don't want to see you go. Even if I can't stand up to a man like that and even if I don't have magic… if there's anything I can do to help you, tell me!" Megumi cried out, a blush coming over her face. There was silence for a moment, Megumi unsure how the reaction was going to come as she felt Harry's hand slip out of her own. It was only when she felt it land upon her head that she opened her eyes and looked up, the smallest of smiles upon Harry's face.

"Thank you, Megumi. If only I had you in Hogwarts with Hermione instead of Ron, life might've been a bit more bearable." The wizard muttered, the luminescent blush on Megumi's face only growing. "I don't know if that's the last time we're going to see Dumbledore, but I'm going to need to spend more time working on my combat skills. I've managed to evade him for two years by travelling the world over, that's where half of my recipes came from."

The two would continue to chat, locked away in Harry's briefcase for a little while longer until Megumi would suddenly break out once more into a bright blush, Harry asking in concern about what was wrong as the girl stuttered out her response."

"W-we passed everyone as we were ru-rushing. All they know is… we ran into your room together and locked it…"

Harry's blush soon matched Megumi's.


	5. The first alumni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On recettes and recoveries.

"The Totsuki training camp…" it was the first step that truly separated the weak from the strong at Totsuki. A time-honoured tradition that pushed the student chefs through the worst hells imaginable to either polish them to shining gems or crush them in the pressure. No matter how hard the school tried to push that it was some sort of friendly getaway, only those who were fools would ever let their guard down on such a fierce battlefield. Looking over Soma's shoulder at the small pamphlet given to the students, a cheerful little dog and chef smiling on the front, Harry let a small frown appear on his face. Something like this was bound to cut into the time he could spend training. "I mean, there was one time I went camping with school. It… wasn't a fun experience."

"Didn't expect a school like this to do something like a camp trip though," Soma muttered, flicking through the pages. The redhead was completely oblivious to the dark atmosphere that filled the room thanks to their fellow students, Megumi quite literally shaking in her boots looking as if she was going to pass out any second. "Sounds like fun though! Cooking and camping, it's like a holiday."

"You'd be wise not to treat it so casually. This camp is the first circle of hell you will meet." Zenji warned, pushing back his glasses, Yuki nodding furiously. "Everyone in the junior high division knows to fear the training camp when they ascend to the high school division, for that is when this truly becomes a battle for supremacy."

"Every day, the first-year students will be tasked with gruelling cooking challenges every minute of every hour, far away in some remote location so we can't hope to escape!" the orange-haired girl added. It sounded exaggerated, made up even, but one look at the school's normal operation proved that with such a large budget available to it, nothing was out of the ordinary at Totsuki. "Those who don't pass muster… will immediately receive an expulsion. It's no friendly camp, but a ruthless grooming procedure!"

"This is how the one per cent spoken of by the director will come about – the 'education by competition' approach," Satoshi added, his dramatic statement only hampered by the fact that he still remained only in a fundoshi despite having not been cooking or in the garden. "For the first years, this will be the biggest eye-opener as to what you're going to be faced with through the year. Even in my year, dozens were sent home literally every day."

"People are paranoid now. There was a camp where less than half returned from the trip a few years ago." Shun muttered. Just those words were enough to turn an already pale Megumi to an even more deathly white, mere seconds from toppling over if it weren't for Harry's arm quickly making its way around her shoulder. At least Harry's actions were able to bring a bit more colour to her cheeks.

"No handheld gaming devices? Darn it, I've never had one of those. I was hoping I'd get the chance to mooch off someone else for a minute." Harry remarked as he threw the booklet back to Soma, a similar groan escaping him. At the looks of shock and confusion, Harry simply gave a small smile as he shrugged his shoulders. "Look around you; it's _us_. Do you think that any of us are going to fail when it comes to this camp? If only half of the year will continue onward, then we just have to be in that half."

"Yes, all of Polar Star will come back with smiles on their faces, I know it!" Satoshi said with a smile. "Not one of you lack the skills needed to succeed with flying colours. Therefore, you all need to try your best!"

* * *

Harry had been a fool to think that the camping trip would involve, you know, actual camping. When Totsuki had the budget to afford so many luxury inns and hotels that there was an entire block owned by the culinary academy, it only made sense that they would make use of what was perhaps one of the biggest they had available to house the students while they were being pushed to the limits. Perhaps it was meant to be some sort of compensation for what was undoubtedly going to be a horrific following camp.

Brought into a crimson room, the wizard could only look down to the small keychain that now hung off his belt, the purple doll waving back and forth with every movement.

" _Here."_

" _A… Bucchi keychain?" Harry muttered as he took the item out of Momo's hands. He'd never seen a toy quite like Bucchi before, Harry had assumed that it was just some sort of special toy crafted specifically for her considering that she had quite the presence when it came to the toy design business. "It's beautiful, but why are you giving it to me?"_

" _The training camp. I like that keychain." Came the short reply, Harry's head tilting in confusion as Momo turned away, using the life-sized Bucchi to cover her face. "I want to see it again."_

_There was confusion for a moment before a bright smile came over Harry's face, the open laughter causing Momo to pout as her grip tightened around the doll. Poor thing, it was probably choked to death with how hard her hands went around its neck. Quickly attaching the keychain to his belt and tilting it so that it was on full show, Harry gave a thumbs up. If she didn't want to be direct about it, then Harry would just have to be in her steed._

" _Well, it won't be leaving my side now. I'll just have to come back with it no matter what!"_

"Good morning to you all. Allow me to make a few announcements." Chapelle declared, all attention immediately turning to the teacher. When your very future was at risk at every waking second, there wasn't a single person in the gathered one thousand that weren't on edge and ready to respond. "This camp will continue for five days and six nights. In that time, several groups will be separated to take on daily cooking projects. Students whose instructors' evaluations deem to be ill-suited for continuation will be immediately expelled from Totsuki. Those instructors, having personally taken time out of their schedules to be here for the camp are Totsuki alumni who have so graciously accepted our invitation."

The top per cent; a selection of chefs that stood at the height, no _above_ the rest of the culinary world. Even their worst dishes could prove triumphant over a typical chef's best and there was no doubt that the same standards would all be applied to their students' work. It was made clear by the pink-haired man who turned straight away towards the students, a finger pointing straight out to the one particular boy."

"Oi, you over there. Nine rows back, the boy with the scar." Well, that was awkward, considering that both Harry and Soma were stood right next to each other. They both pointed to themselves, causing the man to let out a small chuckle. "My bad, my bad. I meant the one to your right. You're expelled, starting now. That hair product you're using, it has a citrus scent does it not? While there's nothing wrong with ensuring that your personal style is as good as the food you produce, the aroma so close to your face will interfere with the scent of the food, causing misjudgements. At your next school, you should try using an unscented hair product."

"I've heard of that man. Kojiro Shinomiya, owner of the grand French restaurant SHINO'S." Megumi whispered, barely able to contain herself with her fright. "He's one of the first Japanese chefs to earn the Pluspol Award for French cuisine! If we have to stand up to him…!"

"Are you _trying_ to destroy my restaurant?" and in that second, there was no longer just one of their seniors standing before them, but a literal devil. With the fierce look in his eye and the sheer anger that resonated within him, Kojiro struck fear into every single person within that hall and though there were a few of the other alumni who were giving the slightest looks of disapproval, many of them didn't demonstrate any sort of emotion within them. This was what was expected at this training camp and they certainly didn't have any issues with that. They had already managed to survive after all.

"Hey there, the girl who looks as innocent as any wildflower!" Megumi squeaked; the blond man who approached was suddenly far too close for comfort, his eyes shining as he spoke in what was perhaps the most awkward and clunky Japanese Harry had heard in a good while. Admittedly, half of the work the English boy had done had been with the assistance of translation charms until he managed to absorb the language, but still. "I believe you may be the reason for my existence. Why don't we talk until the dawn breaks in my auberge?"

"Donato Gotoda, of the French auberge Tesoro!"

Please let go of her hand, chef Gotoda." A much warmer voice intruded, Megumi breathing a sigh of relief as the man did as he was told. Turns out that it came from a brunette with a just as dangerous aura as Kojiro: Hinako Inui of the traditional Japanese restaurant Kirinoya from Zenji's exclamation. "I'm sorry you had such a frightening experience. You're very cute by the way; I could almost eat you up!"

"Hinako. It appears that Chapelle is giving us a hard glare. Perhaps we should return." Donato remarked, a small sound of disappointment coming from the woman as she left for the stage, but even that wasn't the end of the student's amazement. There was one more man to step forward towards the microphone, one that even Harry had heard of with just a few moment's research into Totsuki when he was looking to apply. The man who graduated first from his year with the highest scores imaginable on whatever test he took; the man who was able to turn down over eight hundred different offers from the greatest restaurants around the world; the man whose current position was the head chef of the very resort they were standing in. He was Gin Dojima.

"Welcome one and all to my Totsuki resort! Each of the alumni that have gathered here today is a chef who has excelled in their time at Totsuki and has gone on to produce some of the very best restaurants in the business. For the next six days, these will treat you as if you were a chef within those restaurants; any who do not perform up to par will therefore find themselves fired –expelled from Totsuki Academy." It was a powerful statement, one that only heightened the tension in the room and if Harry was reading his face correctly, Gin was loving it. "As you've already seen, you can be dismissed at the drop of the hat for any infraction depending on who's leading your group at the time. I wish you luck. You're going to need it."

And with that, the people began to split into their individual groups. It was a shame that quite a few of the Polar Star dormitory had been separated, but the likelihood of such a large group remaining together was incredibly small; while Shun, Daigo and Shoji managed to be placed together and Megumi and Soma were in the same group, Ryoko, Yuki, Zenji and Harry all separated. From what the boards were saying, even Erina Nakiri and Hisako Arato had been separated and the pair were rarely if ever seen apart. In fact, the pink-haired girl was stood right before the board, looking quite the bit lost.

"Ah, Hisako, you look kind of confused!"

"Huh? Oh, it's… you, Harry Potter!" and as soon as Harry approached, her expression became shocked, Hisako starting to fidget as she tried to find the words; if any others saw her at the moment, they would describe her actions to be extremely out of character compared to the always calm and prepared secretary to Erina, but there was one thing that most of them was unaware of. "W-well, it appears that we're in the same group. I had never expected to be working alongside the… the boy-who-lived…"

"…Don't worry about it. I thought I told you, I'm just Harry." The boy replied, his smile falling by the smallest margin with the way that Hisako vehemently shook her head. It had been like since the very moment she truly learnt of him; when they had both learnt the truth of each other back when he had taken his entrance exam.

" _There, a perfect meringue wreath with syrup Satsuma. A perfect festive treat."_

" _Very well. I shall proceed with the tasting." Hisako muttered as she gazed upon the dish before her with an analytical eye. Just placing her fork within the meringue was enough to tell that the outside shell was crisp and the cream had been whipped well enough that it perfectly held its form. "From an aesthetic perspective, it passes muster. However, I am here to judge the taste…"_

_And it was wonderful._

_A small sound of delight escaped Hisako as she bit down on the meringue, the perfect contrast between the crispy shell and chewy centre representing the flawless execution of the cooking process. The meringue itself was rather basic in its flavour, but that was easily sorted through the Satsuma and syrup with which it was drenched; with so many recognisably Christmas flavours infused into the fruit and meringue through the syrup, it was as if the holidays had come early for Hisako. The segments had not become mushy like one would expect when they had been cooked in the syrup, for the careful timing of how long the Satsuma spent in there meant that the most flavour was locked within the fruit while keeping the perfect texture to contrast with the rest of the dish._

" _It was a wise choice for you not to include sugar in the cream. Considering the amount already in the other components, it would have most likely made the whole dish too sweet." The pink-haired secretary openly praised, Harry bowing his head in acknowledgement. "It also serves to lighten the whole dish, the variety in textures exciting the eater throughout the eating experience. And that syrup. I taste the cinnamon, ginger, clover… and the potion of flavour enhancement."_

" _E-excuse me?" Hisako's expression suddenly became stern as she dropped her fork, moving close to Harry's ear as words once soft and praising suddenly turned harsh. "I-I don't know what you mean. Potions?"_

" _You're English, so I wouldn't expect you to know, but the Arato family is one of the head producers of potion ingredients as well as potions themselves. If you think you can get such an obvious potion past me, then think again." Hisako growled, Harry stepping back with a look of alarm. It meant that the girl managed to get a good look at his forehead, whatever rant she was going to continue suddenly dying on her lips. "Wait, your name is… Harry Potter? As in, the actual Harry Potter!? I-I'm sorry for saying that, please don't be offended! Even using the potion, you can enter Totsuki."_

"… _What?" Harry suddenly felt a headache coming over his mind; he had thought that tales of the boy-who-lived remained in Britain, but the look in Hisako's eyes was one that he recognised pretty well from his fellow students from Hogwarts. Admittedly, this was the first time he actually tried to return to muggle schooling, most of his time had been spent in the countryside and thus fairly isolated. "No, I was found out. If the only reason my dish was good enough was the potion, then there's no need to accommodate me."_

" _B-But, you saved the whole wizarding world. To know that it was I who stopped you from entering Totsuki…" Hisako muttered, turning away. It was… different from what he was used to. Harry had become so accustomed to hero-worship on the level of objectification; he was put on a pedestal to admire or a scapegoat when things didn't go the right way and even in some of the countries where he had tried to hide in the two years since his escape, Harry had met people just the same. This, this seemed like genuine gratitude on a different level, Hisako scratching her cheek as she saw his questioning look. "Sorry. It's just… being a potion and ingredient producer, we were often put in the firing line by the dark forces. We were already receiving several threats and had a couple of our production fields burnt down, but then we received news that Harry Potter had managed to successfully kill the Dark Lord and our business was saved. If it weren't for you, our family would be left without a thing to our name, or worse…"_

"… _Tell me, honestly. If you ignore the effects of the potion, do you think that dish is worth entry into Totsuki?" Harry questioned softly. Darn it, what was he meant to do after a story like that? When Harry had been told that the Dark Lord threatened all of Wizarding kind, he had been naïve enough to think of that only in terms of Britain. It was only once he finally escaped the confines of Hogwarts when he truly learnt of the extent of his actions and even though it was begrudgingly, Harry could start to understand just how big of a deal he was in the eyes of the magical community._

" _Yes, absolutely! The potion of flavour enhancement is just that an enhancer; it wouldn't have been able to prove as effective as it did if it didn't have a well-made dish to work off!" Hisako declared before a dusting of pink came across her cheeks and she gave a small cough, clutching her clipboard closer to her chest. "But, er, yeah. If it were down to my judgement, the dish alone is worthy of passing."_

" _Then I can take that," Harry answered, awkwardly chuckling at the brightness that entered Hisako's body. The people who had come to take the exam had all been talking about the legendary God's Tongue Erina Nakiri and her stern secretary who were both the epitome of control and calm manners; if this was what the secretary was like, what was Erina herself like?_

"Right then, we need to go to… Shinomiya's project first. Shall we go together?" Harry asked, jokingly bowing towards Hisako. It might've made him look weird to the people around them, more than a few whispers popping up as rumours started to spread in seconds, but perhaps it was all worth it to see the blush that appeared upon Hisako's face.

No, it was _definitely_ worth it.

* * *

"So this is the first team I have to work with…. Hmm." Shinomiya muttered as he watched the students file in. none seemed particularly special at first glance; with Gin's words still flying through their minds, the most prevalent thought in them all was probably how they were going to survive even the first day. That was good – the stress would make them prone to mistakes and that meant he could weed the weaklings out in seconds. There were only a few who didn't show an immediate reaction. "Greetings. As you no doubt already know, my name is Shinomiya, from the seventy-ninth graduating class. My task will have you cooking one of my personal _recettes_."

To be handling a Totsuki graduate's own recipe… it was a special occasion indeed and the dish of choosing certainly matched that sentiment; a terrine formed of nine vegetables, a visually stunning way to showcase the flavours and beauty of each aspect within a perfect casing of stock. Each vegetable would have to be prepared perfectly individually, for their flavours and textures would only be able to glow when tended to for highly specific timings and if any were to either overwhelm the other flavours or fail to perform to the expected standard, the entire dish would ultimately be ruined.

It was a challenge that brought a smile onto Harry's face.

"I made sure to choose one of the easiest _recettes_ I have available. If you so desire, I could pull out a more challenging task for you?" Shinomiya teased, already earning him the dark glares of quite a few of the students. "And of course, you are not allowed to make teams for this task. No information or assistance will be allowed by another student; you would be wise to think of everyone in this kitchen as your enemy from now on. The ingredients are at the back. Three hours: go."

And with that, it was like a wild bull rampage, a whole herd of wide-eyed chefs immediately turning on one another as they tried to pick out their ingredients. It was a foolish endeavour in Harry's eyes, not that there was any point in trying to tell that that after Shinomiya's taunting words. In the mess that was so many students trying to fight over the best ingredients, many of the finest pieces were being ruined. Of course, that made students even angrier and thus, the cycle continued.

That was why Harry was poking around at the edge of the crowd, not too far in as to be stuck in the middle of the battle itself, but not too far out that it was easy to make out what he was doing. With rage in their eyes, there weren't any who saw how the occasional pair of vegetables would just subtly move on their own, flying off the table into Harry's waiting hands as a grin made its way onto the table.

'Right, that should be enough for me and Hisako. I just need to…' but then his thoughts paused momentarily; they weren't allowed to help each other, so he couldn't just hand them to her. Then again, she was completely stuck on the outside of the ingredients, she would be left with barely anything by the time she managed to pierce through with how unfortunate she was to be faced with some of the burliest and largest chefs of their year. 'But that doesn't mean…'

"Oi, you. What do you think you're doing?" Shinomiya called out, the sound of his footsteps causing some of the nearest students to immediately tense up. Harry merely paused for a moment, turning away from the vegetables he was putting on the workplace beside him and tilting his head cutely. "I thought I told you that there wasn't going to be any helping one another."

"…But I'm not. I'm actually sabotaging my competition!" the incredibly cheerful tone which the English boy said it in made for a great contrast the sudden death glares he was receiving, only for Harry to shrug his shoulders at the lecturer's raised eyebrow. "You said we can't provide assistance or trade information with one another; you never said anything about taking more ingredients than you need."

"And what will you do with those extra ingredients?"

"I don't know, probably leave them there until I find a use for them. Hope that somebody else doesn't steal them or something." And with that, Harry promptly went back to his work, leaving Shinomiya standing in utter confusion; he was being so easily brushed off? That was grounds for being fired – except he hadn't done anything _technically_ against his word and he had answered every question he was asked. With a growl Shinomiya turned back to the front of the room, his pointed glare saying everything that he needed to say for him – no one else would be allowed to repeat the same actions.

Hisako hesitated at first; if she accepted his assistance, it would be a serious blow to her pride both as the secretary to Erina Nakiri as well as a chef of her own accord and there were _certain_ people who would be more than happy to see her lose her position as secretary so they could slide in. however, the chefs in front of her were barely even trying to get their ingredients any more, simply brawling. No doubt that they would fail the task if they were so easily misguided, but it meant that her path to the ingredients was blocked and any that were left were most likely beaten and battered after what had just happened to them. To that end, she made her decision, went back to her worktop and just so conveniently 'stole' the ingredients on there before Harry could stop her. Kojiro couldn't do anything about it; he had told them to view each other as enemies. Harry had sabotaged his enemies by stealing from them and Hisako had done the same thing by stealing from Harry.

For the broth that would come to encase the vegetables and turn what was essentially just a pile of veg into a true terrine, nine chicken claws entered a deep pan with enough water to cover them completely; in six minutes it would make… well, a horrible scummy liquid that was of no use as a broth. That was why one then had to remove the chicken claws to a new saucepan and add around five slices of ginger and 20 millilitres of cooking wine, refilling with water so it could cook on a low flame for approximately 4 hours. It was fortunate that Kojiro had sought it necessary to prepare each station a set amount of broth already, for the time limit left no space for making it; maybe he did have a heart after all. With a sieved jug sitting of the broth on the stations, clear of any impurities, it left the focus of the chefs on the actual vegetables themselves.

In what was a rather strange method for Harry, who had neither attempted to cook an entire cabbage as it was, a large bowl of boiling water was quickly prepared, the head of cabbage sitting in it for 3 minutes before it was flipped and the bottom could also boil for 3 minutes. As strange as it was, it meant that the cabbage was just cooked enough that it was palatable to the taste buds and had the perfect soft texture while ensuring that all of the leaves remained perfectly formed to ensure their aesthetics were untouched. Cut out the rhizome and roll out the leaves and that was cabbage done.

After the stems of the okra were removed, it was essentially as simple as cutting the rest of the vegetables into strips and boiling them for the right amount of time; asparagus, cauliflower, baby corn, carrot, bamboo shoot and squash, all boiling for around 4 to 6 minutes save for the squash, that would need around 8 minutes. Of course, the cauliflower was different, Harry skilfully breaking of the individual florets and placing them into the boiling water for 4 minutes. The cucumber would only need to be cut into strips, kept raw for both the difference in flavour and texture.

With their terrine moulds layered with plastic wrap, it was a case of layering the vegetables dependant on how they were to be presented in the final dish – and the recipe had a _very_ specific manner in which they were to be presented. The cabbage leaves went in first to cover the entire lining of the mould before a thin layer of squash was added. Once that was situated well, some of the chicken broth was carefully poured until it reached the same height as the vegetables and then it was rinse and repeat – cucumber, baby corn, carrot, cauliflower, okra and the asparagus and bamboo shoots. That would just need to cool until everything set up.

It was the hollandaise sauce where Harry could really start getting creative. A shallot roughly diced went into a pan along with 10 black peppercorns and a bay leaf, ready to infuse with 60 millilitres of white wine vinegar as it was brought up to temperature, lightly simmering. That would then reduce down to barely a tablespoon's worth of a reduction, but the amount of flavour held within that one tablespoon was staggering. That would then go through a sieve to remove all of the unnecessary additives, leaving just their flavours behind.

Next was clarified butter, a similarly simple aspect, for it was simply butter, around 200 grams' worth, melted down very slowly until all of the impurities, seen as white solids, separated. That left the yellow liquid sitting above to be used in the mixture later on.

But that would have to wait as a pot of boiling water finally reached the perfect temperature, a bowl sitting just above it with a pair of egg yolks inside. The vinegar reduction entered as well and as soon as that was done, a whisking arm went crazy as it whisked the pair together. It had to be constant whisking, there was no room for error; if one part of the process went wrong, then the eggs would scramble thanks to the steam induced heat and it would be impossible to salvage the sauce. Then, the clarified butter was dribbled in as slowly as possible, Harry almost panting with how hard he was whisking – it was a little over the top, but the last time the English boy had tried to make hollandaise, it had split halfway through, leaving a disgusting mess. Fortunately, once all the butter had been incorporated, only a perfect hollandaise was left to spoon over his terrine once it was done cooling, not a single bit of the impurities managing to make it into the sauce.

"Actually… maybe just a splash of water." The feel of the sauce was incredibly close to perfect, but there was the smallest difference which meant that Harry couldn't call it the perfect spooning consistency. He was using a professional Totsuki-graduated chef's recipe to make this after all; to serve anything less than perfection was either a lack of skill on his part (and Harry liked to think he was skilled enough to make a recipe like this) or an insult to the creator of the recipe itself. With what he had pulled before, it was not the best time to get on Shinomiya's bad side again.

Once the terrine had set and cooled, it was relatively easy to prepare; with the vegetables boiled for the correct amount of time, the knife slid easily through them, yet the slice managed to perfectly hold its shape and show off each vegetables individual shape perfectly without flaw. A few drops of the hollandaise sauce around the edge and it was ready to be presented, Harry taking up his plate to the front where Shinomiya sat almost in his chair, acting as if it was a throne with how superior he looked at that time.

It was fortunate that he was a lecturer rather than a teacher, for his style or marking the work was absolutely appalling. There was no form of criticism, positive or negative, save for the smallest movements of his mouth as the man chewed before his finger pointed in one of two directions. If it was to the right, then they were fortunate enough to have passed with a quick 'good job'. If it fell to the right, then the door there would lead directly to the buses that were set to ferry those unfortunate souls back to Totsuki so they could gather all of their items. Even a couple of minutes in the line of nervous chefs waiting to have their dish either approved or failed was enough to see the great disparity between those who succeeded and those who failed.

Despite the small road bump that was getting the ingredients in the first place, Hisako had managed to finish her version of the terrine faster than Harry did, proudly giving a bow to Shinomiya as he gave it a passing grade. It wasn't as if there was any doubt that she'd manage to make a suitable dish, but it still managed to bring a small sigh of relief to Harry's mouth. Out of all two people who knew he was a wizard at the school, Hisako was the only one who was also capable of magic and losing that one person would've been a great shame indeed.

"Harry Potter." All too soon, however, Harry was stood before the older chef, presenting his plate. It would take a few moments of deliberation, but he had at least managed to pass the visual grade - a good thing too, because he had seen some of the passing grades and they looked the same as his own did. It was why he held his confidence as the lecturer grabbed his knife and fork and cut a small piece off, just as smooth in cutting as was desired, and tasted it. The longer it went on for, however, the more Harry felt a small amount of nervousness enter his chest. It was taking a bit more time than the other students' judgements had been and even Shinomiya seemed a little confused as to what to think of it. Grabbing his knife and fork, Harry tried a piece.

…No, there was nothing wrong with it. Each individual flavour made a punchy impact on the taster' tongue, yet melded together into a beautiful harmony as the chicken broth encasing them pulled them together. Not a single mistake could be tasted and from some of the other students' curious tastes, they were feeling the exact same way.

"…Well, you fail. Thanks for trying."

"Excuse me? Why!?" Harry cried out. Shinomiya's eyes suddenly gained a glint as he placed down his fork with perhaps a little more force than was entirely necessary, holding the plate up to the light where it could shine and shine it did. If Shinomiya was going to question the appearance of the dish, then Harry was definitely not going to accept that.

"There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the dish. All of the processes required to make the terrine appear to have been performed correctly and everything about the visuals of the dish is as it should be; you were fortunate enough not to receive any of the vegetables that were in a less than stellar condition." Shinomiya began, Harry's face turning unreadable. With a beginning like that, then the rest of the judgement could go anywhere. "The flavours are all correct as well; every vegetable cuts nicely and their flavours are pronounced as they come together. The amount of chicken broth added at each stage means that the subtle assistance of the chicken's umami is there without being too overwhelming or resulting in any large sections of pure broth, which could be discouraging to some. Out of all the dishes I've tasted, yours is the best tasting and looking by far."

But that didn't make any sense – flavour, appearance and even enviability – they were all in Harry's field so why was he being fired? A quick look around made it clear that the others were just as confused, not that they would be willing to challenge their lecturer's word; why would they risk their necks for someone else when their dishes were far more important to their survival? Another aspect of the competitive atmosphere Shinomiya had created.

"However, I know the _exact_ flavours that are to be produced by this dish." the man declared, the small glint in his eyes growing in size as he stared down a slightly sweating Harry. "I can't immediately tell what you've done, but you've _changed my recette_! For that, you _fail!_ "


	6. The special showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On cooking farces and Chou Farci.

Hisako watched as a dark aura came off Harry, the English boy slowly stalking towards the door reserved for those expelled. Not a single person in the room was willing to speak, abstract fear struck into their hearts with every step that Harry took out of the room. Shinomiya had literally praised the boy's work, found no fault in it at all… and yet still decided it was not worthy of a pass when similar, perhaps even worse, dishes managed to pull forth a passing grade.

The pink-haired secretary had taken a small piece of the terrine when the others were curiously trying it and there hadn't been anything different from her own save for one small thing. Only a trained tongue would be able to distinguish the minute subtle flavours that came with the powdered eye of newt, an ingredient often used in potions to both remove foul odours and make the result have a more mellow taste. Considering the kinds of ingredients that commonly wen into potions, with many not exactly having the most pleasant scent or flavour, it had meant that eye of newt had become almost a staple in every consumable potion. A second bite from her own elicited a small nod; whereas the flavours of each vegetable tried to fight for dominance individually at first, only combining into a unified flavour after the smallest second, no part of Harry's dish seemed to overpower the over, perfectly balanced as all things should be while still shining as individual flavours. Shinomiya may not have been able to tell there had been the powdered eye of newt added, but he still held a refined enough tongue to distinguish how the flavours presented themselves to the taste buds. Hisako had to give her grudging respect to the man.

"Well? Time's running out, you better be plating up if you hope to pass." Shinomiya ambivalently declared, returning to a more casual position upon his chair, the other chefs quickly returning to their dishes – Harry Potter didn't mean anything in Totsuki anymore, for he was simply part of the majority who failed to find their success against the competition.

But that didn't mean Hisako needed to accept it.

Following him out of the door as fast as she could muster, Hisako nearly ran into Harry's back as she looked at the man who was leaning against the wall, arms folded as he stood upright and dusted off his yukata with a sigh. While Harry looked confused, Hisako couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her mouth.

"I'm guessing you know who I am then?" the man remarked, brushing brown dyed hair behind his ear as he turned to the new arrival, harry remaining silent as his eyes remained cast downward. All Hisako could do was fall back on her typical secretary persona, stiff nod escaping her as she began to speak.

"Yutani Yodo, head of the famous Chinese restaurant Chǎo guō zhī wáng." Came her reply, the smallest of smiles appearing on the man's face as he nodded serenely. "I understand I have no right to intrude on what was a private conversation, but might I ask what you were doing with Mr Potter? I would've assumed that all Alumni would be busy with their classes."

"Oh them? Well, I took one look at their dishes and had them all expelled. After that, I figured I'd see how the others are handling their classes." Yodo replied with a bright laugh, Hisako blinking. An entire class, expelled simply because their lecturer didn't like the way they looked? That was beyond vicious, something that would be classed as unreasonable if it weren't for the power that was gifted to the alumni. "Ah, that face. You think it's unfair, right? I told that to young Mr Potter here and he had a similar reaction. But the difference is, they all failed to meet my expectations. I let them use their recipes and they failed to produce something that would stand to muster in my restaurant. What _is_ unfair is an alumnus being so petty as to fail something better than he had expected considering Kojiro's words. Therefore, I was just suggesting a… potential way to get Mr Potter reinstated."

"Shokugeki…" it barely came out as a whisper from Harry, conflict clear in his eyes, but Hisako couldn't help but step back slightly. If it were any other person or situation then there wouldn't be any objection to the suggestion of a shokugeki. After all, it was one of the prime methods of competition upon which Totsuki was built. This was completely different however; this was not technically at the school and the person he would have the challenge wasn't just any other student. Could shokugeki rules be utilised in a training camp? Even if it was possible, was it wise to attempt a shokugeki against an alumnus, one who had already demonstrated the skill needed to succeed where thousands failed? "Don't you think… it's worth a try?"

"…But I must ask, what makes you so interested in Harry in particular? I find it hard to believe you would suggest such a thing to any other student after all, or we would be dealing with a huge amount of shokugekis." Hisako questioned, her suspicions not at all dealt with as the man let out a small chuckle, growing into full laughter.

"I pride myself on fair judgement and what I heard was not a fair judgement at all." Yodo declared, a smirk dancing on his lips as he looked to the closed doors. There was something that couldn't be described in his eyes, but it certainly didn't speak well of Shinomiya. "Everyone else who has passed these doors have been dropped for their inability to match the flavour profiles or due to a reasonable issue; he expressly claimed he couldn't tell what was wrong and that it was perfectly acceptable as a dish. If you wish to fight in a shokugeki, then I'm more than happy to get Shinomiya to agree. All I need to know is if you believe you have the ability to battle someone of his level."

"…If you can, do it. I won't hold back." Harry explained, his fist slamming against the wall as a fierce energy shot through his body, the boy sliding his glasses back upon his face. "I'm not going to hold back, I'm going to use everything I can to show that man he can't do something as petty as this! _Everything_. So please, help me."

"Understood. All students not expelled will be faced with a challenge in the evening where high quantity cooking skills will be tested. During that time, you will instead return to this location. Shinomiya _will_ be waiting."

"Harry…!" but he was not to be reasoned with, Hisako watching as the boy marched away while the smirk upon Yodo's face grew even wider. Without another word, the older man happily stepped through the door, bidding farewell to another student nearly in tears thanks to his expulsion before the door shut behind him. the responsible thing to do was stop this from ever happening in the first place, but considering the sudden shouting from within the room and the fact she had no idea which room Harry was currently residing in, it didn't seem like Hisako would be able to do much. "This can't be happening… this _really_ can't be happening…"

* * *

"Hmm?" Shinomiya muttered as he craned his head back. With his job done, all of the students should've been making their way back to the buses to prepare for their next challenge. When he caught sight of a yukata however, a weary sigh passed the redhead's lips, Shinomiya standing to greet the man. "I didn't expect to see another Alumni in my lecture. Do you need me for something?"

And then suddenly, the world gained a haze over it, Shinomiya's body becoming lax as a strange sensation came over his body for a brief moment. It was the most wonderful feeling. Shinomiya felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only coming to his sense seconds later to see Yodo smiling serenely at him.

"My apologies, but I couldn't help but listen in to your lecture. I feel like you were exceptionally harsh to that Potter boy; he did nothing wrong by your words."

"A chef who cannot even follow a recipe correctly has no place in one of my kitchens, I distinctly remember being told that we were to treat the students as if they were our employees." The redhead answered, completely unrepentant as he started to walk away. "I'm not going to change my mind and you won't change that. Now then, shall we return?"

"…Even if he were to challenge you?" Shinomiya stopped mid-step turning around to see a smile that was far too vicious to be natural. Even so, it didn't stop the slight anger that began to bubble beneath the redhead's skin, only a quirked eyebrow coming as an answer. "Mr Potter has set himself; if you're willing to return here in the evening, then he has challenged you to a shokugeki and it'd send a rather bad message if you refused, correct?"

"So he thinks he can challenge an Alumni? As an expelled student?" Shinomiya muttered with a scoff, ready to turn around and make his way to the buses without a care. Somehow though, he failed to do so, the thought of the consequences dancing in his mind. Yodo was not a man who could keep quiet; if Shinomiya refused here and now, then it would be known by most of the people in the Totsuki resort, including the other Alumni and his pride would tank. That could _not_ be allowed. "Let him then. I'll show him how out of his depth he is."

Under normal circumstances, Shinomiya most likely would've fought back much harder and Yodo was fully aware of that as he watched his fellow alumni step out of the room. A hand gently tucked into his pocket, running his thumb over the pile he pulled out. His job was done and he'd already received his reward – it was down to Harry Potter to use the chance he had been gifted well.

* * *

Into a base solution went 3 adder's forks and a small amount of butterscotch, approximately 1 measure, three clockwise rotations before two slivers of crocodile heart were incorporated. This was then to be followed by four rotations in the anti-clockwise direction before a wave of the wand activated the concoction and it was to be left brewing for five minutes. That small period of rest let Harry wave his wand to the side, a series of knives suddenly gaining a life of their own as they proceeded to chop the ingredients before them.

Another quick wave brought the now perfectly chopped eye of newt (as opposed to Harry's more favoured powdered form, which would've caused a rather caustic reaction in the cauldron) and it was added to the mixture, Harry giving a small nod to himself as the liquid took on a green tinge. That was the sign to blast the concoction on high heat for a minute before lowering it to the minimal heat. Then, five clockwise rotations gave the perfect time to slowly drop in four measures of crushed ginger root. Ten minutes later, Harry was cautiously pouring the mixture into his mouth, stoic face as he waited for the effects to kick in.

"… I want something sweet." The English boy muttered in annoyance looking around and eagerly grabbing one of the biscuits sitting on the plate to his side. they had been one of the few things fuelling Harry during his great push for inspiration; with all of the time granted to him by the fact that he technically was expelled meant that he could experiment freely. "It's useful in some situations I guess, but my plan's savoury, a desire for sweetness would be detrimental…"

Thankfully, the rest of the magically working knives had also completed their job and the rest of the potion was easily vanished – with the recipe jotted down, it wasn't really necessary to keep a supply of the potion beyond the few small samples Harry had extracted. The next experiment could proceed properly. If Harry remembered it correctly… this was experiment number five. Hopefully, he would be able to find exactly what he needed before he reached the double digits.

Harry had already decided what his dish would be, something that would show off as many skills as possible within a single creation, but to simply stop there wouldn't be enough. After all, this was a man who had already proved himself on a global scale, gifted with a prestigious award for his skills in French cuisine – nobody expected a mere student to succeed. Therefore, Harry needed the special edge that would just push things beyond the limit.

With the next potion complete, a single sip was all that Harry needed before a smile appeared on his face. Quickly placing it upon the remains of the biscuit he had yet to finish, the black-haired boy took a bite and couldn't help himself from finishing the rest. One look at the clock showed that he only had a couple of hours to prepare all the ingredients he would need to make his dish work, Harry eagerly climbing out of his briefcase with fire to his step.

"If he thinks I'll be easily cowed… I'll show him something he won't believe!"

* * *

"A student challenging an alumnus… this might just be the first time something like this has happened." Shinomiya muttered as he idly checked over his ingredients. Of course, it was a completely needless procedure, considering that only the best of the best had given to him for usage in the battle, but it passed the time well enough. "Who does that Yodo think he is? Mr Dojima gave us full control over our teaching methods, there's no ground for him to stand on."

"And yet you still accepted an unofficial challenge and we were brought here as judges Kojiro. Should anyone find out about this, we'll surely be horribly punished." Donato answered, leaning back against his chair. He wasn't the only one, however, for a fair number of the other alumni also sat within the classroom; Hinako Inui, Fuyumi Mizuhara and Hitoshi Sekimori were present and seated, looking towards the door as Yodo proudly stepped through with a big smile. "Ah, Yutani! I've heard that you were the one who prompted this strange scenario."

"I simply thought the judgement to expel Harry Potter was a little odd. After all, an excellent dish that was one of the best Shinomiya tried shouldn't warrant an expulsion, surely?" the man explained with a wave of his hand. "Luckily, I've managed to keep Dojima distracted, so there won't be any issues with this going on."

By the time Harry had arrived and stepped through into the kitchen, he was met by several judgemental looks, returning them with a stiff bow. Having never interacted with them, it was only natural that they would see him as barely worth a second glance, only Hinako giving a small wave as he moved to the opposite counter. It would take only seconds for the tension to grow to an unbearable level, Hitoshi stepping forward with a weary sigh.

"Well, looks like you planned this thing well." The Japanese chef remarked, looking to the two competitors ambivalently. Clearly, the man had far better places to be and if it weren't for the disgruntled look he gave in Yodo's direction, Harry wouldn't have been able to guess why he even was there. "I guess I'll step up to be the adjudicator. This isn't an official Shokugeki, so I won't give you a theme or anything. Just use all of the stuff that was left over from today's sessions if you want to, it's only going to get thrown out and replaced by tomorrow. Let's say… two hours. Right, let's get this over with, go."

It wasn't the most… enthusiastic of introductions the famous sushi chef could've given, but it served its job well enough, Shinomiya immediately set to work as he plucked out what he desired from the many vegetables laid before him. It was the speciality within his specialty, a cabbage, asparagus and shitake mushrooms sitting before Shinomiya ready to go. Harry felt a vein throb as a literal _yawn_ escaped the master of French cuisine; was he going to take this even remotely seriously?

In no time at all, or more accurately, the time it took for about 1 tablespoon of beef tallow to melt in a pan, the ends of the asparagus were removed with expert precision to prevent the woody texture from ruining the dish with their less than favourable flavour. Four of these asparagus stalks were then cut into quarters, the shitake quickly joining as 3 mushrooms were thinly sliced without their stalks. Throwing them into the pan, the pan turned his eyes over with a cocky smirk; the chef had become so accustomed to his recipe, there was no need to watch as he sautéed the vegetables, for they would be done in the exact time he hammered down to a tee.

Once that was done, it meant that Shinomiya could place his attention on the pair of chicken breasts, a well-trained hand easily slicing roughly 400 grams' worth of chicken into bite-size pieces to enter a food processor. One hand poured in 100 millilitres of cream in afterwards, the other expertly cracking an egg on the work surface into the mixture so it could all bind together into a smooth puree. That was then placed into a bowl so it could firm up in the refrigerator, turning into an excellent mousse.

"Expertly done, as to be expected of Shinomiya," Hitoshi remarked as he watched the redhead boil fourteen cabbage leaves, a steel-edged blade carefully slicing without hesitation to remove the stems. "With Shinomiya's levels of experience, there's no doubt he'll be producing a professional level dish, even if he isn't taking this as seriously."

"He's focusing on root vegetables, right? Same old cranky Shinomiya." Fuyumi muttered, ignoring the fervent yell of indignation that came in the Italian chef's direction. "He was always boasting about how he was adding a new dimension to French cuisine. The French don't tend to place such a focus on root vegetables compared to the Japanese and so he's better suited to introducing them in surprising ways. Nothing's going to change the way that man thinks, least of all some random kid."

"I wouldn't put it that way. After all, this Harry Potter is one of only two transfer students. That means he has already proven himself on a certain level." Donato remarked, waving the profile lazily back and forth. "And from what I can see of his station, he has taken on an arduous task!"

"Hmm?" the first part of Harry's dish was something relatively simple, something most of the chefs at Totsuki could replicate – through rubbing 110 grams of unsalted butter into 250 grams of plain flour, a breadcrumb consistency was quickly formed an egg yolk with 3 tablespoons of water being stirred through to start binding the pastry together. With a stoic face and hands just as fast and precise as Shinomiya's, sprigs of tarragon, thyme and rosemary found themselves chopped as small as possible, joining the mixture so it could flavour the dough. "I don't see what you're talking about. The least he could do is be able to make a dough. Sure, you have to be careful not to overwork it, but it's not exactly hard to handle."

"I think Donato was talking more about _that_." Hinako pointed out, Harry gently running his finger along the edge of his knife as a shadow fell over his face. That suddenly changed into a wicked smile as the flash of steel could almost be heard in the air as Harry took to the chicken, slicing selectively. Those cuts would allow Harry better access to the meat below, but that wasn't what he was attempting, Harry silently inhaling as he dipped his fingers into the nearby salt. "He's… trying to remove the chicken skin in one! By using salt on his fingers, he gets a better grip and there's less chance of the skin breaking apart and the cuts were perfectly aimed to ensure minimal damage to the skin."

And in one gentle movement, the skin was perfectly preserved, placed upon a greaseproof paper-lined baking tray with salt and pepper before the second lot of paper and a second tray was place on top. That entered an oven preheated to 180 degrees Celsius for the same amount of time it would take for the pastry to rest – approximately one hour.

Whereas Harry was breaking down his chicken into pieces, ensuring that the legs kept their skin on for flavour, Shinomiya turned his attention to his breasts – chicken breasts. Those breasts would also have their skin removed, a much easier task than Harry's, before being butterflied – sliced into equal halves to speed up the cooking and ensure it was evenly finished. With the butterflied breasts wrapped in cling film, they were rapidly pounded with relentless fury, an act made even more violent by the sheer force that the chef was placing behind it. The reason was unclear, but there was a sudden ferocity that hadn't been there before.

Harry didn't have time to worry about that however, for he was focusing on his chicken legs, which he would have to confit. That meant 150 grams of unsalted butter, a sprig of thyme, a sprig of tarragon and a clove of garlic was placed within a pan so the butter could melt down and the flavours could infuse. That provided a perfect liquid to submerge the chicken legs, which would make the perfect meat to tear apart 45 minutes later.

"With this, Shinomiya will almost be finished, indeed?" Donato questioned, watching eagerly as the master of French cuisine laid out his boiled cabbage leaves and started to construct the final product. First, a breast was tenderly laid upon the leaf before a sample of the excellent mousse from before was spread across, followed by a selection of the sautéed vegetables. With the roll wrapped up nicely with a strip of bacon to hold it all together, they all went into a pot where a litre of bouillon broth joined them, brought up to the boil and then brought down to a lower temperature so they could simmer with a lid. Shinomiya turned a cocky gaze to his opponent, barely even halfway through his preparations. "There is still much left for Harry Potter to do."

With Harry's dough rested, it was cut into two pieces – one that would become the base of his dish and the other that would become the cover. The part that would become the base fell onto a light sprinkling of flour, Harry steadily rolling back and forth until it was the thickness of a pound coin, which was around 2.8 millimetres for those who weren't British. Rolling the pastry around the pin allowed the boy to easily manoeuvre it over his case, gently pushing it into every nook and cranny before tight sharp slices trimmed off any of the excesses. Baking parchment and beans placed on top, the case would have to rest in a fridge again for 20 minutes before baking for fifteen minutes at 200 degrees Celsius, followed by a brush of beaten egg to provide colour after five minutes more baking.

He was fully aware of how intently Shinomiya was watching him as he began to heat another pan, 1 tablespoon of butter melting down to be joined by 200 grams of cleaned wild mushrooms once the butter was foaming. Once that was ready, in went 25 millilitres of brandy, a small light producing a brilliant flame that burnt off most of the alcohol in no time at all, leaving it ready for 100 grams of sliced leek and 2 sprigs of thyme. Regularly stirring for 5 minutes, the tablespoon of plain flour that joined the mixture gently coated everything before it was covered by 150 millilitres of chicken stock, followed by 100 millilitres of double cream. A firm mix had it ready with perfect timing, for his blind-baked casing was quick to come out of the oven, five minutes to cool before the final stretch could be completed.

With the second part of his dough rolled out to a circle just larger than the case, the edge was covered with beaten egg before closing the lid on the filling within the pastry. With delicate fingers crimping the edges to seal it all in, the crispy chicken skin withdrawn from the oven was crumbled over the top along with additional thyme, entering the oven for an additional twenty minutes until it was complete.

By the time the call to serve was announced, Harry was perfectly happy to slice the chicken and mushroom pie, watching the filling ooze out onto the plate with a content nod. Shinomiya's certainly wasn't lacking in any form either as he pulled out the chou farci from its broth, the steam enticing the judges already.

"Well, you're both done at the same time… so how about Shinomiya going first?" Hitoshi declared, said man more than proud of what he placed before his fellow alumni. One smell was enough for Harry to understand the sheer extent of what he had to beat; the delicate smells of vegetables combined with the heavy aroma of the meat in a way that didn't overpower anything, the meat serving as an enhancer to the vegetables than the other way round. Knives met no resistance as they cut smoothly through the chou farci to reveal the meat and vegetables within. "Regional cooking coming from the region of Auvergne. A more familial kind of dish than something one would serve in a restaurant."

"You find it strange as well? I mean, Kojiro's always making his dishes all fancy-schmancy-URGH!" was all that Hinako was able to say before she found herself with a karate chop digging into the top of her head. Even with the serious atmosphere of the false shokugeki, Harry couldn't help but wince in sympathy – it wasn't a restrained attack at all and the brunette found herself wrapped in ropes and dragged away almost immediately without a bite to eat. "WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME KOJIRO!?"

"Just stay quiet and don't do _anything_!" Shinomiya roared, turning with a weary sigh to where the judges were prepared to take their first bite. "Go ahead then guys. I would've made this dish a little more complex, but too much complication isn't necessary for a dish like this. Dig in."

And so they did.

It was _magical_.

"Th-this stuffing is different from the typical pork and onion used to form chou farci!" Hitoshi gasped, perhaps the most emotional investment the man had demonstrated during the whole event. "This has to be… yes, jidori chicken breast meat. That would explain the luxurious flavours!"

"I see you're a little confused there," Shinomiya remarked haughtily as he saw Harry's eyebrow quirk slightly. "I saw that bag you walked in here with; no doubt you've just used anything you could get your hands on for your pie. Jidori chicken is the best possible calibre of chicken; borne from a cross of the two greatest breeds of chicken, they're given a vegetarian diet to develop maximum flavour, they're never frozen and delivered directly on the day of slaughter."

The immediate benefits were obvious. With a policy of never being frozen, it was likely that the meat didn't contain as much water, meaning a fuller flavour and firmer texture, perfect for a dish where the meat was providing the main bulk of it. If it was done right, then fresh chicken could even be served in a sashimi style, something that very few to no chickens in Britain could boast about.

"The mousse coats the roof of your tongue, but then dissolves instantly…" Fuyumi whispered in awe, pulling her legs closer to her chest as she swirled the last remnants of her bite around her tongue. "There's a rich burst of flavour that's balanced by the sweetness of the savoy cabbage surrounding."

"Got to admit, this is way better than the last time you challenged me to a shokugeki," Yodo added, the yukata wearing man happily nicking a piece from a non-complaining Donato. Harry watched as Shinomiya's confident smirk was replaced with a scowl that he didn't even show Hinako and there was definitely something between them; was the relationship between Yodo and Shinomiya even worse? "From the blanching to the steaming, everything's been held at the correct temperature to ensure that produces a delicate sweetness. I guess that's what happens when you go to France to train for several years and win a shiny badge; even basic family dishes can be turned into something worthy of being demonstrated in a high-class restaurant."

It was as if a magical spell had come to encompass them, cast by a sorcerer that was a master of his craft. Shinomiya couldn't help the cocky expression that came to his face as he pushed back his glasses, the alumni near lost in their joy as they continued to eat. Why wouldn't they? It was crafted by a man who had managed to survive the harsh pruning process that was Totsuki and managed to succeed in a country that didn't take to a Japanese man trying to improve their cuisine. Someone who was able to overcome such odds, someone who was able to flourish in an environment that wanted them downtrodden and defeated…

That fit Harry just as well.

That was why when he approached the table with the prior plates cleaned away, he only showed a pleasant smile as the slices of the pie was placed before them, the warming scent of mushrooms and chicken weaving through the air. It was clear from sight alone that the pastry had been perfectly cooked, the clean brown colouration speaking to an exceptionally well-timed bake as Donato took a deep inhale.

"Ah, the scent of herbs whets the appetite, does it not?" the blond man mused, a happy sound escaping him as he twisted and turned the plate. "From a visual standpoint, it's perfect. Let's have a taste!"

There was silence, Shinomiya leaning back against a nearby refrigerator in boredom. Even if it brought a small growl to Harry's throat, it was understandable – in his eyes, there was no way he could possibly lose, so why even bother with the second judgement? The stiff atmosphere was only cut when Hinako was the first one to speak. Well, speak was a little bit of a stretch, for what came out of her mouth was more akin to a groan of delight.

"This is delicious!" Hitoshi muttered in shock, his eyes opening wider by the narrowest margin as he gazed upon the light creamy filling that oozed out of the pastry. "The stock and cream surrounding the meat hits with you with a strong burst of flavour – combined with the intense umami of the wild mushrooms, it's like a flavour bomb going off in your mouth."

"The herbs, however, prevent it from being too powerful. Not a bomb… more like dazzling fireworks. You never want it to end." Fuyumi corrected as she spoke around her mouthful, eagerly returning for more. That was what caused Shinomiya to twitch slightly; from what he had demonstrated in his class, Harry certainly had a level of skill that would earn some praise from the alumni, but to have them so eager for more? That wasn't what he was expecting.

"When I saw you removing the chicken skin from the main part of the carcass, I had no idea what you were doing. Placing it on the top of the pie… what a novel idea!" Yodo declared with a loud guffaw, the man already halfway into his own slice of the pie. The way that he was lazily slouching on the table earned him Shinomiya's ire, especially with how Yodo had been staring at the chef the entire time. "It improves the presentation of the dish while adding a small alteration to the texture that's subtle, but still changes how the eater experiences the pie – it's definitely unlike anything I've ever tasted. Having been baked until crispy in that kind of manner, it means that the flavours of the meat are emphasised just as much as the mushrooms, but you can still pick out the richness of chicken confited in butter. Tell me, where'd you get those mushrooms? I don't think I've seen anything like it."

"They're a special kind of mushroom that I've cultivated at Totsuki. I had no idea what the requirements for the training camp were when it came to challenges, so I thought it would be wise to bring my own supply just in case." Harry answered with a hand to his chin. That was a lie. A white lie – they were indeed a result of the land that he had been given as a member of the Polar Star dormitory, but it was a magical breed of mushroom that no normal person would ever hope to be able to find, let alone consume. Their discover had been a cute little accident, the company he typically used to have his ingredients owl ordered had included a new update to their catalogue and as soon as Harry learnt what they were capable of, he had to ensure he had a steady supply of his own.

When they were raw, there was little that could be remarked about them save for that they were poisonous, but when cooked in something like a pie, they released a particular substance throughout the meal that held a minuscule effect. They temporarily made whatever they came into contact with appear more delicious to the one who was tasting it and when the mushrooms were one of the main aspects of the dish, the whole meal was lifted to levels beyond expectation. The only reason why they were so limited was that he was purchasing them from a potions company; apparently, they didn't respond well to potions.

By the time the judges placed their forks down, there was nothing left, a sign that brought a small amount of alarm to Shinomiya as he stood before them. There were two plates, with each judge holding a coin that they would place to state their vote. It was a battle between magicians, one of the east and one of the west, the magic they weaved battling for dominance over the other. The process was surprisingly fast, but it felt an eternity to Harry as he glared at Shinomiya, the man more than happy to return the look as their powers met in a violent clash.

The first coin fell as Hinako returned to her seat, Yodo not even bothering as a flick of his thumb had his vote fall in the perfect position. The other judges needed only a moment longer, but their votes were cast soon enough and the two were allowed to gaze upon the result.

"The dish that has one was the one who managed to combine their flavours most masterfully, without relenting on any detail. The attention to the cooking process was palpable in the final product and what was created improved on something that families have enjoyed for generations."

In this battle of wizards, there was only one way things could turn out. After all… only one knew _actual_ magic.

The result of today's match: Harry's victory.


	7. The Chinese challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Chinese medicine and changed men.

It was meant to be impossible, a battle that could've only been won by Shinomiya. He was a man of far greater experience, who had experienced more of the cooking world than Harry and mastered his craft to such a degree that even another country couldn't produce a man who matched his talent in their cuisine. Yet here they were, five coins sitting upon Harry's side as the boy gave a firm bow to them all.

Shinomiya felt his grip tighten as pure outrage flooded his body. All of those years spent training his ass off in Totsuki and France, all the trials and tribulations he faced in the face of a xenophobic community, had they all been for nothing? Had the pinnacle of French cuisine been bested by a child in their _first_ year?

"That's the thing, isn't it? I said you've improved since we last did a shokugeki, but that only applies to your ability to cook, not the way you hold yourself." Yodo remarked, a fierce glint to his eye as a sound of surprise escaped Shinomiya. "Back then was our first year, when you were just an uppity chef trying to prove himself like any other – nothing special and that hasn't changed in so many years. You're cooking might've improved, but that doesn't mean that your arrogance has. You underestimated what your opponent was capable of and that let them take full advantage of you; you didn't even cook one of your specialities."

Now that Harry thought about it, there had been a passing line about it from Hinako. Shinomiya, as a man who ran one of the most successful high-end restaurants in Paris, a city where many gourmet restaurants battled for dominance daily, was bound to have a plethora of gourmand quality dishes. That wasn't to say that the chou farci he had produced wasn't high grade enough to enter a gourmet's menu, but there was a certain simplicity to it that didn't speak of his full talent. That couldn't be avoided with how simplistic the recipe had been made.

"The dish Harry made lacks refinement, but he was fully aware of that," Hitoshi added calmly, the sushi chef folding his arms as he leant back in his chair. "If it were a battle of refinement, then he would no doubt lose even when you make something like chou farci; your whole career depends on you making things as refined and elegant as possible. However, he made up for the disparity by focusing on the rustic aspects. While you made a familial dish more suitable for individual dining, the way Harry designed and presented his dish appealed more to the concept of family dining."

"Kojiro… it speaks to you as a chef, right?" Hinako concluded, her expression soft until Shinomiya made to open his mouth, receiving her hand upon his lips as the woman pouted. "No, you get to listen to me when I'm making my cool speech! I've heard rumours about your restaurants Kojirou, even when you stated you didn't want us to talk to you so you could focus on being a success. You trusted everyone so little that you hammered your recipes in and refused to grow as a person, refused to listen to any feedback from anyone. You cooked for yourself when you're meant to be cooking for everyone!"

Shinomiya was left without words; this was not something that Hinako was known to do and the few times she overpowered him had always been a sign of just how serious the situation was. To be honest, Harry couldn't help but feel like a side character in someone else's story until a withered sigh escaped Shinomiya.

"Well, I can't deny that the judges have made their choices. This is your victory." The man said, Harry unsure to react until Shinomiya was directly in front of his face, a fire burning there that hadn't been there before. "But don't think that this means anything! I went easy on you, too easy it seems… don't let this get to your head. If you challenge anyone else in this room, then they'll wipe the floor with you. Play your cards right however and… If it were known that I lost to a Totsuki dropout, then both of our reputations would be in ruins."

And then he walked off into the night, Harry blinking before turning to the others. It was Yodo who spoke up, a small snicker escaping from behind his hand.

"That man… such a tsundere. Hopefully, our words will get through to him." the yukata wearing chef laughed, walking over to Harry and shaking his hand. "You'll go far kid, I'm sure of it. Just make sure to keep your work up and never stop heading upwards. After all, if I remember the group schedules right, then you should be heading to my lecture tomorrow and I won't go easy on you, no, perhaps even harder on you for achieving something like this!"

Harry couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face at that; he liked this man already.

"Try me!"

* * *

"Harry!" Megumi cried out as Harry wandered into the hotel, said girl uncaring for the fact that she was in her pyjamas as she ran over towards the English boy. Her call was loud enough to rouse the others for out of what was most likely Zenji's room, the entirety of Polar Star tumbled out. as tired as he was, there was no way he was going to survive that and in no time at all, they were all accidentally thrown onto the floor. "Where were you!? We thought that you got expelled, you missed an entire challenge! All of those muscles…"

"Um… Well…" and thus, a tale was spun. They moved back into Zenji's room despite the mild protests that came from the boy, but nobody else was listening while Harry continued to make weave his story. As soon as it ended, there was a beat of silence, Harry unsure of what reply he was expecting until he was forced to cover his ears by the combined yell of disbelief from them all. "Argh! You're going to break my ears if you do something like that!"

"Are you kidding me!? You just casually tell us that you went up against one of the alumni and _won_ and expect us not to freak out!?" Yuki was the first to cry, grabbing Harry by the collar and shaking him like a ragdoll. "Why would you do something like that? _How_ did you do something like that!? ARE YOU CRAZY!?"

"I kind of have you to thank. After all, if you hadn't given me one of your chickens before we came, then I wouldn't have ever gotten the inspiration for my dish." Harry meekly muttered as an answer. It had been sitting in his store under preservation charms and when Harry glimpsed it, there was no way to avoid using chicken in his dish – it was one of the best things he had on him. The response had the orange-haired girl reeling, stuck between anger and her normal energy on a seemingly endless loop.

"Damn, if you were going to have a shokugeki, you should've called us over! I wonder what it would be like, cooking for our seniors." Soma mused in disappointment, Harry feeling a sweatdrop at the same time as everyone else. Of course the boy was interested in challenging the most difficult opponents one could find at an already hellish training camp. "All we had to do was go out and hunt for our ingredients. Not exactly something I'm used to, but it was no challenge for Megumi and me! And only fifty servings for the evening? With that many people, I don't see how you could struggle with that."

"Soma, not everyone has your ease of cooking. My back is aching from moving so much." Ryoko sighed, a beautiful smile appearing as she regarded Harry. "Still, even if it is through a pretty unorthodox method, it's good to know you haven't been expelled. We were planning to have a party, but when it seemed like you were expelled, we put it off. Now, we can enjoy ourselves!"

"Not all of us." Following Shun's finger to the bed, Harry couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him. Five of them had already passed out before they could finish dealing out the cards they were planning to play with, leaving only Ryoko, Soma, Shun, Megumi and himself still awake. "I guess we can leave them be until lights out."

"I feel like I could follow them… but then again, I feel super awake." Megumi remarked, curling into herself. "I've always been so nervous all the time, anxious of screwing up in class, but thanks to everyone here, I've been feeling more confident, even if it's just a small amount. If it weren't for Soma's encouragement, then I don't think I would've made it through even the first challenge – it makes me kind of excited. Plus, I was so worried about Harry not making it through…"

"Well, you won't have to worry about that again." A hand around her shoulders caused Megumi to look at Harry, matching the smile on his face with one of her own. "I'll be sticking around for a lot longer, no matter what it takes to do that. I'm not going to let down Polar Star by being the only one to fail now, am I? That means leaving you behind and… you're the best friends I've had in a while."

"Aw, look at you two together. Megumi fits into your arm so perfectly." Ryoko's comment nearly caused Harry to choke as Megumi dissolved into little more than a blushing mass of stammering, the purple-haired girl giggling into her hand. "I mean, we never did talk about what you two were doing, running into Harry's room and then locking the door, did we?"

"…Guys, help me out."

Shun and Soma's thumbs up didn't help.

* * *

"All enter." Harry tried to keep his focus as the whispers grew around him. There was no way to escape them; they had all blatantly seen him be expelled by Shinomiya, yet here Harry was standing alongside the rest of them as if nothing happened. Perhaps it would've been tolerable if it weren't for the bright grin on Yodo's face as he beckoned them all into his kitchen. "Consider yourselves lucky; unlike the others, I'm not going to put anything as crazy as having to hunt your own ingredients like Inui or have you produce copious amounts like Sekimori. I'm a specialist when it comes to all Chinese cuisine and thus, your task is to produce a Chinese dish that will stand up to my expectations. However, when you present your dish… you must state what purpose it serves."

That had the students confused; some were already restricted by their lack of knowledge of Chinese food, but to also have a purpose along with that? What could they even say? Food was to be eaten and enjoyed by the customer. Maybe something like 'warming you up for the winter'?

"Look at your faces! I guess that's why I'm here huh?" Yodo continued, the brown-haired man leaning against the wall as he smugly smirked at the group. "Let me explain. In the world of Chinese cuisine, there's a special line of thinking known as shíliáo, or 'food therapy'. Every grain, vegetable, fruit and meat have a specific effect on the body and the balance of it, meaning that when one prepares a meal, it should either maintain or re-establish that balance. Look around; there's a lot to learn."

And indeed, there were several posters plastered with information of all kinds, describing different effects in almost minute detail. It was only when Harry approached one of the nearby posters and gave it a proper scan over when he realised what the issue was, his lone statement enough to get some of the other students freaking out again.

"You've told us effects, but… you haven't named any ingredients."

"Well noticed! I suppose that's what happens when you go up against one of the alumni and win after being expelled!" the declaration caused Harry to freeze, as well as the rest of the class before seconds later, it dissolved into a mess of confused cries. Harry couldn't have hoped to produce a darker glare as he looked towards his lecturer, only receiving a wild laugh and trollish smile in return. It didn't exactly bode well for what this activity was going to be like. "Yep! Unless you know your shíliáo medical effects, you're going to have to deduce what effects your dish has when you present it! That's why you'll be working in pairs; get the job done quicker and work together to research or have one person cooking while the other researches. I don't care how you do it, but know that you have three hours starting… now!"

"Hisako, please! I'm not going to pass if you don't help me!"

"Please Hisako? Anything you want, I can give it to you! My daddy's rich!"

"I'm doomed without you, can't you see that!?"

Almost immediately, there was a clamour around Hisako as students tried to claim her as their partner. Why wouldn't they? She was well known already for having a well-rounded knowledge when it came to the medicinal properties of ingredients thanks to her family's medicinal herb business and that was _crucial_ in a task like this. If they didn't know any better, many would say it was as if the task had been made especially for her. However, she paid little attention to them, instead making her way directly towards the English boy and grabbing him by the shoulders, her feelings made clear by the first statement.

"Don't do something like that ever again!"

"…Does that mean you'll be my partner?" Harry cheekily replied, Hisako backing away slightly before a sigh escaped her. They earned more than a fair share of glares together, but that didn't matter as the pink-haired secretary let her head fall, face shadowed by her hair. "Look, if I didn't do that, then a man like that wouldn't have gotten any punishment for acting so unfairly. I did what I had to do to keep my place."

"I…I… I want to keep scolding you, but I can't." came out from frustrated lips. "You managed to beat one of the alumni, something that very few could boast at all without being one themselves, let alone while they're still in their first year. What you did was reckless and thoughtless, but I can't help but respect you for doing something no one else here could've achieved."

"Well, I feel like I never should've done it if it meant I could avoid… this." Harry answered, pointing to the few who still held their dark glares. It was as if he had been made public enemy number one; whether it was because of the fact he had managed to beat Shinomiya or because he had taken the attention of Hisako, Harry wasn't quite sure. "I don't like their eyes on me. I was already going to have enough just being here, but now they're going to come after me like nobody's business. I was just hoping I could quietly slip in without anyone knowing…"

There was a melancholy note to his words that Hisako was left speechless by. He had achieved so much in his life, both magical and mundane, and yet he still held a humbleness that one wouldn't expect from someone so skilled. Even Erina Nakiri, as amazing as she was, held that façade of confidence in front of everyone, incredibly brutal when it came to her judgements because the chefs making it had the bluster to place it in front of her. If any other had been in Harry's place, they would have been a cocky arrogant poser; it spoke a lot of his character that such gentleness could be found in Harry.

"Don't worry. They won't be able to do anything, not while I can help it!" Hisako declared, pulling her clipboard close to her body. "Fortunately, I had heard that our next task would be with Yutani Yodo, so I made a list of various Chinese ingredients and their medicinal effects. We shouldn't need to consult the posters at all during our dish. We just have to decide what to make. I have several suggestions if you want to hear them?"

"Wow, this is amazing…" the detail on her clipboard was akin to a textbook, yet it was all perfectly organised to be easily digested by the reader – for someone who wasn't at all educated in the art of shíliáo, Harry already felt like he was starting to become pretty knowledgeable. "So this is the power of a Nakiri secretary, so organised. Hey, that duck sounds interesting and I think I saw some woodchips in the store. Why not try that?"

"I will admit, it's a technique that I'm not too familiar with… but it certainly isn't beyond our limits." Hisako declared, a quick nod coming from the pink-haired girl. "If you will begin preparations on the meat itself, I can work on the accompanying sauce. If I remember correctly, you have a fellow student within your dorm that deals with smoked food items?"

"Right, he's taught me a couple of things. Leave it to me!" and with that, it was time to begin. For Harry, his initial part of the task was relatively simple. Weaving through the students rushing towards the posters in the hope of gleaning what little information they could, he quickly pulled towards the food stores, grabbing a pair of duck breasts, a sample of wood taken as well as a selection of teabags. Hisako easily matched his speed, slipping through without issue to take in a far larger amount of items: a shallot, garlic, ginger, a chilli, groundnut oil, 6 plums, muscovado sugar and rice wine vinegar. "Hey, there were a couple of different tea leaves. Which would you prefer?"

"… Go Earl Grey. The flavour should synergise well with everything else. What kind of wood did you find?" Hisako stated as she prepared her board. Each plum was held for mere seconds before they were quartered, the stones falling onto the space beside her as twenty-four pieces were placed into a food processor. 10 grams of ginger and a clove of garlic followed as soon as they were peeled, while a couple of slices and a firm rub between Hisako's hands had the chilli deseeded and ready to join the rest. That would only need 2 tablespoons of the sugar and 75 millilitres of the rice wine vinegar before it was ready to be blitzed into a paste.

"Managed to find some peach wood. If I remember it correctly, then it's meant to give a sort of light sweetness and fruity flavour." Harry muttered as he began preparing his pan. The deepest one he could find soon was wrapped in aluminium foil, the peach wood chips and Earl Grey tea leaves entering to form a rustic sort of smoker. With a colander slipped in over the wood and leaves, there was the perfect surface for the duck breasts to rest on skin down; the smoke that would be produced by burning wood would be able to impart their flavour without scorching or overcooking the meat. With a lid on, tightly wrapped with foil to prevent as little smoke escaping as possible, the pan was placed upon the highest heat possible, where it would smoke for around 15 minutes. After that, it would have to rest for 15 more. "Smoking is good to go!"

Swinging his legs over the edge of the desk he had given to work with, Yodo gave a scoff as he saw a couple arguing over the direction of their dish. One wanted to just make a dish and hope it worked within the boundaries they had been given while the other preferred to fully learn about the various effects to make a cohesive plan and try to match the ingredients to that. There were pros and cons to both approaches, but if they didn't make up their minds and start soon enough, they wouldn't be able to achieve something worthy of a pass in the first place. From the looks of things, they weren't alone; while they didn't seem to be as bad as the groups he got on the first day, the general aura of the room was the same – pure stress and confusion. It was great.

"The junior high division of Totsuki teaches about the basic nutritional understanding required to even think about being a chef. Those who will not excel never push themselves beyond that understanding." Yodo muttered to himself as he gazed over his charges, a single pair in particular. The mixture Hisako had made was poured into a medium saucepan where it would boil for around 20 to 30 minutes, meaning it should be ready for the same period that the duck was and that gave Harry and her perfect time to prepare the accompaniments for their main showstopper. "It's all well and good understanding how and what nutrients are in an ingredient, but if they are not put together harmoniously, then the dish loses its appeal. Without an understanding on how ingredients work together and how they alter the purpose of the final dish, they will never be able to truly cater to the people they're serving."

"Duck is ready, going in," Harry called out as he finished peeling and mincing 10 more grams of ginger and 2 cloves of garlic, red onion sliced and 250 grams of tender stem broccoli halved. As soon as he lifted off the lid of the pan holding the duck, a huge waft of tea-infused smoke filled the air, Harry grinning as he pulled out the breasts. As they were, they were technically cooked due to the heat produced through the smoking process, but the anaemic colouration to the skin was not what was desired when it came to presentation. Thus, a combination of 1 teaspoon of five-spice powder and a tablespoon of runny honey was applied liberally to the meat so it could enter a cold wok skin down, brought up to medium heat. Frying would continue until the skin took on a delicious golden-brown colouration, flipped onto the other side for a minute until it was removed to rest, leaving a wok with duck fat ready to flavour whatever was next put in.

"Understood! Please prepare the rice, I shall handle the stir-fry." Hisako replied, the two effortlessly working around each other as if they had been partners forever. Harry gave a small smile in her direction as he looked into the pan filled with white, a fork gently fluffing up the grains. For the past 30 minutes, 175 grams of jasmine rice had been placed within 300 millilitres of boiling water to simmer, absorbing all the liquid and becoming beautifully tender to the touch. If this was how efficient Hisako was, it was clear why Erina favoured her assistance so much.

A high heat had the duck fat ready to go in the wok, Hisako throwing in all of the vegetables that Harry prepared, save for the tops of the broccoli, in so she could stir-fry them for around 3 minutes. Once the broccoli first showed signs of softening, that was the time for the heads of the broccoli to join them for a minute before in went a tablespoon of soy sauce, 3 tablespoons of the plum sauce they had created (with the rest saved for a later date) and 2 bok choy halved. That would only require an extra minute or two before it was ready, Harry sliding over a pair of plates with rice mounded on them. As he sliced the duck breast, Hisako meticulously planted a set amount of the stir-fry on top of each, sprinkled it with sesame seeds and then let Harry finish the whole thing off with his duck.

"...What the hell is this?" Yodo growled at the pair who brought forth their dish, not even giving them a chance to speak as a burst of rough laughter entered the air. "You think I wouldn't be able to notice what you've done? You didn't put any thought into this dish, you just slapped it together without any idea of the synergy and effects the meal would have on the one consuming it. Even looking at it causes my body to shudder – get out of here before I kick you out myself."

And they certainly needed no more prompting, Harry wincing as the two strode depressed past him. So this was what Yodo had been talking about when he said he had failed a class just by looking at their dishes. For a man so trained in the art of shíliáo, the yukata wearing man was fully aware of just what held what effect and by seeing what ingredients had been used and how, he could determine how much care had been put into their utilisation. If it weren't for Hisako's help, then Harry would've been following them right out of the door. As they were, however, there was no fear in Harry's gaze as both he and Hisako presented their dish to the lecturer.

"...Well, looks interesting. What is it and what's it meant to achieve?"

"Things will soon be getting colder, so our dish is meant to be something that warms a person. To achieve this, we have utilised several high yang ingredients like garlic and chilli." Hisako explained stepping forward. A quick conversation easily proved just how extremely the secretary's knowledge dwarfed Harry's own even with the small period he spent reading Hisako's notes and thus, she would explain most of the medicinal work. "To balance out both the flavours and the effects, however, we have also made sure to include a reasonable amount of ginger, good for reducing the harmful effects of other ingredients and balancing bodily fluids and qi. Plus, as a man, you naturally have a lower amount of yang compared to women and so, it is more reasonable to give such a high-yang dish to you than a female lecturer."

"Nice to see that you have a fair knowledge," Yodo muttered as he picked up his knife and fork, cutting through the duck; the texture was pleased and the presentation was up to scratch. From the way Hisako spoke of it, she had a good knowledge of it, but it was a team project... "What can you tell me about this then Mr Potter? Don't think you can clam up and get away with it."

"... The main focus of our dish is how it is high-yang, but there are also several other side benefits." Harry explained with a nod – he was pulling out of nowhere, having forgotten a fair bit since Hisako had tried to explain it him, but he would be fine so long as he didn't make any major mistakes, right? "Ginger helps with healing and strengthening the immune system. Star anise are heavy in antioxidants. Cloves are anti-mutagenic, antimicrobial and anti-inflammatory. Black sesame seeds assist anti-ageing and growth. I won't lie chef, but you're not exactly in your youngest years, are you? We saw that and combined many things that will help you live healthier for longer using as many of the ingredients commonly found in Chinese cooking."

"Good job lad! I knew you had it in you two; probably should've separated you to give some of the others a better chance!" Yodo's sudden loud statement caused Harry to shrink into himself, the stares of his peers intensifying as the alumni took his bite of the dish. Despite how uncomfortable he felt with the praise of his lecturer however, Harry couldn't help the pride that came to his face as Yodo let out an appreciate sound, going back for more. "When it comes to shíliáo, you've certainly made a good choice. The balance between the heavy-yang when it comes to the flavourings and the cold-natured duck is perfect. The spice keeps you eating, yet is light on the stomach so you never feel as if you've gone too far. You paid attention to what wood you used for the smoke meaning that it imparts a flavour the elevates the other elements without being intrusive and even in the restrictions you were given, you made sure not to burn the meat before it was ready to sear or got any woody taste into the duck. I doubt I'll eat anything like this again today! Of course you pass, feel free to do what you want until the buses return!"

Many of the students surrounding despaired; it was clear that no matter what they produced or how they did so, they would be placed against the incredibly high standards formed by the best of their group. When before, it felt as if a little struggle might've been enough to take them to success, it was now as if the great wall of china sat between them and passing. Upon the highest peaks, Hisako and Harry watched down imperiously, their duck forming an impenetrable wall that could never be brought down. With all their cleaning done and their second plate eaten by themselves, the two walked out of the kitchens with a satisfied stomach and a passing grade.

* * *

"Heh, that was easy!" Soma scoffed as he threw down his cards – a winning hand compared to Ryoko's rather poor junk. "We had that Shinomiya guy today and all we had to do was follow a recipe. I'm surprised more people didn't get past the test."

"Oh yeah? How was he?" Harry asked around his straw, taking a small sip before choking. With a look of disgust, the boy slammed the cup down on the ground beside him, the disappointment in his eyes looking as if he were trying to burn the drink to a crisp. "What the hell was that!? I thought you said Ramune was meant to be like lemonade!?"

"It is meant to be, if you have the original flavour," Ryoko remarked with a tilted head, grabbing the cup before taking a sniff, recoiling from the odd scent coming from the cup. Sure, the carbonated drink obviously had a very sugary scent to match the amount of sugar that went into it, but the smell of maple syrup? Nope, that was nothing like what it was meant to be. "Where's the bottle?... Ah. That wasn't normal Ramune. That was the teriyaki version."

"WHY DOES THAT EVEN EXIST!?" the English boy cried out before he simply resorted to palming his face. "You know what? Never mind. Maybe as someone raised in the west, I'm never meant to know. But yeah, how was Shinomiya?"

"He was really strict... but nothing we couldn't handle!" Megumi spoke up, mindlessly pushing the cards in front of her around in a circle. "I wasn't strong enough to push everyone aside, so I wasn't able to get a good cauliflower for the recipe. It was kind of oxidised, but there was some white wine vinegar, so I used that to hide the decolouration and enhance the flavours."

That brought a frown to Harry's face, even as Yuki passed him a new cup. If it had been any other teacher, then it would've been an act that earnt her praise and recognition, but that was not the kind of man that Shinomiya was. He was so hard-headed that any deviation from his vision was classified as an act of insubordination. Harry's act had improved on the result and it had still managed to earn him an expelling; for Megumi, who did what she could to merely match the standard that was being expected, there was no doubt going to be even less sympathy.

"Ah, don't look so angry. After what you did to him, there's no way he's doing what he did again." Soma laughed, an elbow to Harry's ribs causing the English boy to weakly fight back. "After hearing what he did to you, there was no way I was going to let something like that happen to Megumi. But then he tasted Megumi's dish and fell silent before letting her pass. It was kinda weird, but we're still together, so I didn't think much about it. You've affected him you know."

"It was terrifying for a moment... this scary look came over his face before it suddenly became... different," Megumi explained, poking her fingers together. "It was like he didn't know how to react. I know he was going to react as he did to you, but then he must've felt really bad about being beaten by you and let me through. I don't think there's anyone who doesn't know about what you've done to him, they're all looking to you in thanks because more people are passing thanks to a fairer judgement."

That brought out a low groan from Harry; he had just expected just to stay at Totsuki, not completely alter the way that the man approached judgements and be known as the student who was able to beat an alumnus in his first year. Once they returned to Totsuki, there would be no way he'd live it down and the people would maybe be as drastic in their responses as they were to Soma. Still, if it meant that Megumi had been passed as she should've been rather than expelled because of Shinomiya's machinations, then Harry wouldn't lose sleep over it. _Much_ sleep depending on how the other students reacted.

"Wasn't what I was trying to do, but it is my fault – I have to take responsibility at some point." Harry lamented, taking a deep draw from his cup perhaps he should've learnt his lesson from the first cup and smelled the contents or saw the darker colour before he did so, however, for only a small amount was needed before Harry was choking again, Shun subtly moving his foot to avoid the liquid that spilt across the ground. "Urgh, what the hell even is that!? That was worse than the first one!"

"I swear, I took it from this bottle!" Yuki protested, holding up the bottle for the others to say. With narrowed eyes, Harry reached out to the small flap of sticker that wasn't entirely stuck down, ripping off the label that spoke about the original flavour to reveal a much more orange one – complete with an octopus on front. "Wait, you have a _takoyaki_ flavour!? Who the hell looked at lemonade and thought it needed to taste like _octopus!?_ "

"...Oh yeah! The joke Ramune!" Soma suddenly piped up, a happy chuckle escaping the redhead regardless of the throbbing vein on Harry's forehead. "Well, the others came back pretty sleepy after the first day, so I figured they would be the same tonight. The joke was that they would be offered these Ramune and we'd get to film their reactions!"

"So why did you think you would offer it to me as my first impression of the drink?" Harry slowly asked, not at all placated by the noncommittal shrug that Soma gave in response, looking to the takoyaki flavoured Ramune and taking a gulp for himself. The fact that Soma was able to smile even while looking thoroughly disgusted with what he was consuming, spoke much to just what sort of foul concoctions Soma had eaten throughout his life and almost took pride in.

"Sorry, I kinda forgot that they were in there and that I'd swapped the labels. Now that you know what it is though, isn't it horrible?"

Harry's palm met his face harder than he ever believed it could.


	8. The egg-cellent adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On poutine creating and portion control.

"All eyes, towards the stage!"

Harry couldn't help the yawn that escaped his mouth. They had, after all, been called after they had all completed their mandatory evening task, a mission that often served to sap whatever remaining energy that was left over from the day's lectures. To expect anyone to be able to act at their best after such an exhausting day was a fool's errand, but it didn't stop Dojima as the man stood upon the stage with a grin.

"It's nice to see everyone so energetic after a hard day's work!" the man declared, his grin only growing at the nearly synchronised groan of weariness that passed the student body's lips. "All of you have been gathered here for a special purpose, one that none of you will have been able to prepare for compared to the other activities. You will now be told of what tomorrow's task will be."

"But… why?" Souma's mumbles summed up the situation well; if the event was going to be held tomorrow, then what was the point of telling them what the event was the night before? As mumbles began to spread around the hall they had been gathered in, the English boy's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Something didn't feel right about this whole situation and from how much Dojima was enjoying it, it was definitely something that the students were _not_ going to enjoy.

"The task for tomorrow will be to construct a breakfast menu, one that would be worthy of serving to our esteemed guests here at the Totsuki resort." Dojima declared, his expression suddenly turning into something decidedly more vicious than it had before, and with reason. "Breakfast is the face of this resort; it is an essential meal that acts as the consumer's first impression of how the day will go. That is why I would like you all to create an innovative dish that will result in a vibrant contribution to our tables. So long as the main ingredient is egg, then you are free to make anything suitable for a breakfast table. The judging will commence at six in the morning, so we'll be keeping the kitchens open all night for you to use as you desire. Whether you rush to get a good night's sleep or spend all night working on your dish, you _must_ be prepared for tastings by six. I wish all of you a good night."

The atmosphere suddenly changed from exhaustion to _depressed_ exhaustion, Harry only able to let out a tired laugh as the man walked off the stage. It was the perfect test of a chef's determination and endurance; no matter how much pressure was placed upon a chef or how many obstacles were put in their path, they had to have the ability to overcome them and if they were able to make innovative dishes while half-asleep, how much did it say for their full capabilities? A scoff from the side drew Harry's attention, a blond student grinning as he stared at where Dojima had been standing.

"Finally, a task worth competing over." He remarked, the blonde boy turning to Soma with his hand upon his hip and ferocity that could only be described as the haughty looking down on the lesser. "Watch me Yukihira! I'll deliver the ultimate breakfast, a traditional Italian egg dish arranged using the entire expertise of the Aldini Trattoria!"

"…You know he isn't listening, right?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes as he pointed towards where another, slightly more rotund boy was happily discussing a recipe with the redhead, the blonde student suddenly gaining a throbbing vein upon his forehead as he stomped towards the pair. It was only the hand held out before him that made the student pause, harry smiling as nicely as he could when all he wanted to do was collapse upon his bed. "Name's Harry, Harry Potter. You?"

"Er, Takumi. Takumi Aldini." The blond replied, taken aback for a moment. Maybe it was because he wasn't used to being so easily dismissed, or the fact that Harry, the one said to be skilled enough to completely defeat one of the Alumni looked as if he was going to collapse at any moment, but either way, he quickly coughed and regained his prior bluster. "Anyway, I have heard of you too, Harry Potter. Watch yourself, because You will soon see how much my skill eclipses even you! H-hey, Isami! Stop telling him about my recipe! Isami!"

"…Yeah, sure whatever." Harry muttered, stifling a yawn as he walked over to Megumi. The poor girl was shaking in her boots, looking as if she was going to faint at any moment. She wasn't alone, however; a fair amount of the students were barely able to keep themselves together, yet they were forced to trudge down to the kitchens and pray for a miracle; they had to, lest they fall victim and be expelled. "Hey, Megumi. Come… with me. I have an… idea."

"O, okay." The girl replied, following along behind Harry. What he could do in this situation, the blue-haired girl wasn't entirely sure. Unless there was some sort of magical stash of egg recipes that he had lying about, then she had no idea what she was going to do, her anxiety building as they took each step. "Shouldn't we be going towards the kitchens though? I don't have a recipe and I really need to get something planned!"

"I was thinking… we could use my briefcase." Came the tired reply, Harry messily unlocking his door and beckoning her inward. Megumi couldn't help the small sound of surprise that passed her lips when she saw Harry practically fall headfirst into the magically expanded case rather than take the ladder like usual, unsure how to feel when there wasn't an immediate reply. "Don't worry! Cushioning charms, not a single scratch. The adrenaline… helps to wake you up. You can use my workspace to find your recipe, then sleep here."

"But why? I don't mean to be rude, but wouldn't it be just as easy to work in the kitchens?" Megumi questioned as she moved past the potions into a separate door that she hadn't been invited into before. Unlike the wild apothecary like =items that made the English boy's potion room look like something ripped straight out of the middle ages, the kitchen she walked into was incredibly pristine, everything looking like it could be found in a luxury restaurant save for the rather strange looking novelty doorknob.

"Look here. This is something you'd never get from working in those kitchens." And with a twist of the doorknob far more than it had any right to go, the wood above began to fade away, revealing a display with a rapidly changing number until it stopped upon 'X0.25'. For a flash, Megumi felt as if the world was warping around her, the universe suddenly appearing to go much slower and her perception of distance altering rapidly before everything settled down. There was no way the girl react save for blinking in confusion, the smile returning to Harry's face. "Time dilation. The space we inhabit, this kitchen, is currently moving at a quarter of what time outside is. That way, you can get a full rest and plan your dish before the time limit. If we wake up early, I can then adjust the time within the kitchen until it's an appropriate frame, no need to wait. Simple, right?"

"That's not simple at all!" was the only thing that Megumi could cry out. How was he treating this so easily!? What he was doing was beyond anything else Harry had shown off to Megumi; if anyone knew that something like this was possible, even if only to a select few, then it would completely change the way that people would view the world. Suddenly, her mind flashed back to the warning that Harry had given her when she first discovered his little secret, a sigh escaping her. "Are you sure you should be doing something like manipulate time so casually? Shouldn't there be some sort of hazardous effect?"

"What's the point of being grown-up if you can't act childish sometimes? What's the point of being smart if you can't act dumb sometimes?" Harry reasoned with a tired shrug, plodding over to the fridge and looking over the ingredients. He certainly wasn't lacking for eggs, not with the amount of both mundane and not so mundane varieties that he was able to order from his suppliers, a wide selection of various foods sitting around them. "What's the point of following the laws of physics if you can't bend them a little sometimes?"

"That last one isn't the same!" Megumi cried out once more, hanging her head with a depressed sigh. From how he was acting, it was clear that Harry didn't seem at all concerned with it, so the least the blue-haired girl could do was place some faith in him. Following him to the fridge, a low hum escaped her as she occasionally pulled out bits and pieces, various thoughts flashing through her head as Harry walked off. "Well, it would be a waste to not take advantage of this… so why not try something like this?"

With 300 grams of daikon on the work surface, Megumi set about slicing them into 3-centimetre pieces before quartering them, placing them within a bowl that soon had cling film covering the top. In the microwave (a thing that Megumi silently found very interesting seeing as a briefcase had _no_ right to have a properly working electrical system in it), that would take about 6 minutes to cook, which gave her ample time to start peeling the carrot she found and cutting it into discs.

"How cute! I didn't expect you to have these things!" Megumi cooed as she rooted through his cupboards, Harry turning from his experiment to see her messing with a selection of cookie cutters. In a wide choice of pastel colours and bearing all sort of cutesy shapes, they didn't seem like something Harry would normally own, not with how dark and medieval everything was outside of the kitchen. Harry merely gave another shrug in return.

"They were a gift one of my friends from Hogwarts sent me when they learnt I was going to try and apply for Totsuki. Seeing as I joined the confectionary RS, they've really helped. Use them if you want." He explained, a small giggle escaping Megumi as an idea flashed before her eyes. Her original plan was to simply leave the carrots as they were for her dish, but before they boiled, there was nothing wrong with taking one of the cutters and going to town, a bouquet of orange flowers entering the water to boil.

A piece of konnyaku was cut into bite-sized pieces as well, also placed into water to boil as Megumi pondered for a moment. There was a fryer available to her, and there was no reason not to with how well it would add to her dish… an idea formed. Rushing over to Harry's ingredients store and letting out a small cheer when she discovered everything she needed, Megumi gently salted around 75 grams of Pollock, letting it rest while she dutifully chopped up 10 grams of carrot and 50 grams of onion. After rinsing, de-boning, skinning and slicing the resulting fillets, they were placed within a food processor along with a quarter of a teaspoon's worth of sake and a small amount of salt. Processing until it reached a gooey texture, then went in a half tablespoon of potato starch and half a teaspoon of ginger root juice with half an egg, the smooth mixture placed onto a chopping board along with flour-coated vegetables to become a wonderful mixture.

When you deep-fried it in oil at around 160 degrees Celsius for around five minutes, you had magnificent tasting Satsuma-age cooling down on the side. While it drained of its excess oil and cooled, it was the perfect time to take some hanpen, a kirimochi cake and two chikuwa, chopping them into bite-sized pieces as well. Cutting the 4 pieces of small aburaage was a little different however, Megumi slicing them diagonally and opening up to form tiny little pockets, washing to remove any other oil that might be within. If you took one of those and placed a boiled quail egg and a piece of the Kirimochi in, you had a nice little packet, tied shut with a boiled garlic chive.

Everything save for the hanpen entered a large pot filled with a litre of broth and a tablespoon each of sugar, sake, mirin and soy sauce to simmer for an hour, Megumi giving a loose sigh as she closed the lid. The hanpen would have to wait until it was minutes before eating, only requiring a short amount of cooking before eating, but otherwise, she was done.

"You need an hour right? Take a small nap, I'll wake you up when it's done." Harry muttered, Megumi giving a small nod as she moved over to the side. Falling to the ground, there was only a small moment of Megumi acknowledging the fact that pillows and a blanket had appeared out nowhere before she was firmly asleep, Harry admiring her sleeping form for a moment before carrying on with his dish. He would have to make a couple of tweaks, but it seemed to be good enough; there was definitely enough to do that would keep him busy…

When Megumi awoke once more, she was pretty certain that it had been _more_ than an hour that had passed, the blue-haired girl just about ready to freak out and try to recover a ruined dish when she saw a quaint little bowl sitting still steaming on the table. Looking at the various pieces skewered and ready to be eaten, Megumi picked up the note sitting beside the bowl, her attention turning to the happily snoring Harry on the ground behind the worktop.

"I'm sorry for not waking up, but I felt like I was too tired to stay up. After the hour was done, I made a bowl and placed everything under preservation charms to keep it good. The skewers were sitting there so I decided you wanted each piece skewered.' So he completed my dish for me?" Megumi stated as she picked up one of the skewered quail's eggs, bringing them over to her lips with anticipation. Almost immediately, it was a burst of flavour as the mild broth coated her tongue, soothing the palate while simultaneously incredibly stimulating the taste buds. A soft content sigh passed her lips as she pumped her fist; it was exactly like she wanted it to be! "This is great! But, I wonder what Harry was making… I can't see anything around here, did he already get everything he needed done?"

* * *

"Whoa! These test halls are huge!" Harry muttered as he and Megumi stepped into the area they would be using for the morning's activity, a near unlimited amount of kitchens set up ready to accept the students. "Stepping over to a pair of kitchens next to the entrance, Harry let out a grin as he ensured his uniform was in place, set about preparing his workspace. "Good thing that I didn't accelerate time, coming this early means we get to choose anywhere we want to go! At the front, we can get this tasting over with and then get things done quickly."

"Doesn't something seem strange to you though?" Megumi questioned as she began to get set up, looking to the facilities that had been set up in preparation for the testing. While it was normal for Totsuki to throw their money around with reckless abandon, what they had been given was oddly excessive even for the culinary school. "We have so much space and equipment to work with, it seems a little too much for a simple tasting?"

"Well, if anything strange does come up, we're probably the best equipped to deal with it. After all, we're going to be one of the few fully rested people with a plan already formulated." Harry pointed out, tilting his head to the gradually increasing number. More than a few were barely conscious as they tried to find a station, one unfortunate soul quite literally asleep on the ground until one of his fellow students kicked him in the side. "Even if they didn't have the same cheats as we did, the others in Polar Star aren't going to be that bad off. Let's just focus on making sure we can deal with anything."

"It appears that everyone is prepared to present their dish. Now, I shall explain the rules." A booming voice declared over the speakers, a screen at the front of the hall blazing to life to show Dojima's face with a microphone in hand. "First, allow me to introduce the judges who shall be sampling your dishes."

What came next, they had not been prepared for.

Harry gave a small chuckle as he saw the first children come rushing through the door, eagerly looking at the ingredients that were frying and bubbling and poaching behind the English boy. Their families were quick to follow, happily chatting as they began to flood in. All those who felt sleepy were suddenly jolted back into reality as the sheer volume of people settled in their minds; this wouldn't be a normal tasting.

"Allow me to introduce the people who grow and create the produce necessary for the Totsuki Resort to function, as well as their accompanying families. As they have done for every year before, they have graciously agreed to act as judges for this task." Dojima called out, his voice barely heard over the natural chatter of hungry families searching for their next meal. "Naturally, they have all been informed about the restriction to an egg dish that can be classed as innovative; there are few I would trust to be better judges. In addition to them, I would also like to welcome the Totsuki Service and Culinary staff to join. All of these fine folk will be looking for innovation worthy of acknowledgement and only those who manage to serve over two hundred portions of their dish within the next two hours will be able to proceed with their education! Therefore, I humble request of you, honoured judges – enjoy your breakfast!"

"Are we ready folks?" Harry called out as bowl after bowl of golden chips were pushed out, cheese curds, onions, gravy and bacon sitting on them to form a crazily delicious scent that was drawing more and more people by the second. When one added a poached egg on top, then there was just no holding back as people eagerly began to snatch up their portions as fast as possible. It was perfect; being situated at the door meant that everyone was at their hungriest and he was one of the first dishes they would see as they walked in – at this rate, it would be easy to get two hundred portions dealt with. "Give them a try, someone's offering you chips for breakfast – why would you say no?"

"I see, so it's a form of poutine, a Quebecois dish if I remember correct…" a steward remarked as he stepped forward, an intense analysis hidden behind a genial smile. It did little to deter Harry, who merely returned the smile at full power as he offered up one of the plates for the man to taste. Gathering as much as possible into a single bite, the steward raised it to his mouth as elegantly as possible, savouring the flavours. His eyes widened as the smile became fully genuine, eagerly going back for more. "I see, so you've managed to combine the flavours of eggs benedict into a poutine dish! Despite being so different, the flavours meld harmoniously; you've managed to successfully combine one of the most refined breakfast dishes with a rather rustic and simplistic dish to make a magnificently comforting breakfast!"

"I try my best," Harry responded, returning his attention to the hollandaise that was currently heating through behind him, the number of plates set out dwindling scarily fast. Perhaps he hadn't thought this entirely through – with the number of people that were eager to have a taste of his dish, Harry had to make sure that he was constantly cooking and providing more. It wasn't like Megumi's, which could be made in bulk and left simmering without much attention, the amount of work that had to be put into Harry's breakfast poutine meant that there wasn't a moment where he could stop.

The results were magnificent, however; over the pan of salted water he was poaching the eggs in, Harry had to be sure that his egg yolks weren't scrambling with constant movement as salt, pepper and a vinegar reduction entered them. Once that was done, it would have clarified butter slowly dribbled in while Tobasco and lemon juice was added to it before it was ready. While that was happening, a 200 degree Celsius oven was crisping up rashers of bacon at the same time as potato pieces fried into chips in 170-degree oil. Dashing back, Harry placed his attention on the onions, placing them into foaming butter and sweating them thyme leaves and seasoning. They would need stirring for ten minutes until brandy was added and there were five minutes extra cooking. It was a frantic form of cooking, but it was clearly fun to watch from the excited chatter of the children and that was good enough for Harry.

"There's something different about this hollandaise, right?" the steward questioned, stood aside to allow the many others who wanted a taste to take their portions. The bowls set aside to count the number of portions sold was happily growing, though Harry wasn't paying any particular attention to it. "A vinegar reduction of sorts, shallots, bay leaves and peppercorns from what I can taste…"

"Yep, that's right. I guess working so close to a high number of cooks means even the staff have become extremely knowledgeable about food." Harry answered, the steward giving a small chuckle. "Ah, let me guess. Also went to Totsuki? It's a shame to see you working service rather than cooking then."

"My, if everyone who came from Totsuki to here were chefs, we would have no one to serve or clean." The steward said, dusting off his gloves. "Even waitresses and waiters need to have firm knowledge about the dishes they are serving; if they lack such a vital education, then they're not in a position to suggest appropriate recommendations, describe the dishes or understand how various beverage pairings work. You'll find few in my service staff that could not act also as a chef, though perhaps not to the same levels as those under Sena's command."

Oh, suddenly everything was beginning to fall into place. This wasn't just any old steward that he was talking to, but the one in control of the entire service side of Totsuki Resort's operation; the Maître d'hôtel Tokihiko Sakuma. With a bright smile, the man moved on to the next stall, happily taking a sample of the breakfast oden bowl that Megumi was offering, Harry giving a small sigh of relief as he continued his work; out of all of the people there, he and the sous chef Hiromi Sena were the most important to please.

"Hmm…I don't know…" Harry's ears pricked up when he heard a passing comment from a concerned mother, no matter how much her children were enjoying the bowl they had grabbed a hold of. "It seems rather heavy for breakfast. I don't think I could eat that much…"

"Not a big fan of onions… gonna give it a pass." Another spoke up, a glum expression on his face. Even having said that, there was a small amount of drool passing his lip, quickly wiped away with an embarrassed cough. "Shame. Everything else sounds so good and from what I'm hearing, people love it."

"Same! If only if it hadn't had bacon put on it, it would be great!" his friend bemoaned. "I guess that's what happens when you're a vegetarian at these things, so close, but so far. I heard there was something over there…"

That was a concern. If people were hesitating, then that meant that they weren't going to take a portion and his overall total would take a hit – he didn't want that, even if he'd already made a good dent into his required count. When there were so many issues to combat at once however, there were only so many different avenues one could take. It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, having to appeal to them all. It was fortunate then that an idea suddenly made its way into Harry's mind, the English boy looking to the decreasing number of bowls sitting on the counter.

"Buffet style… yes, that's it!" It required a major change in the way that he was handling it, but if a few… _tricks_ were able to keep everything from going majorly wrong, then it gave the black-haired boy time to mess about with his set up. Giving a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods were out there that they had been supplied with such a grand amount of equipment per station. In a matter of moments, several heat lamps were alight, glowing over trays that were rapidly filled with chips, or bacon, or cheese curds, the sauces sitting right next to them. The poached eggs were a little more delicate, but they too soon found their place on the serving table and as Harry placed the bowls to the right along with several ladles and serving spoons, it was clear what the intention was. "Fell free to take whatever you want folks, as much or as little! I'll handle the rest!"

That immediately drew a bit more attention, those who were stuck on the fence stepping forth thanks to the mumbling. Sure, it meant that distribution was a little bit slower as people served themselves a little bit of everything or greater amounts of whatever they wanted, but the amount of customisation it offered meant that they were soon flocking to Harry's station.

"Thank you very much!" Megumi called to another satisfied worker, stacking the bowl along with the many others she had managed to gather. After people saw the three greatest producers, Tokuzo of the chicken egg, Kosuke of the green bean and Kyusaku of the natural cheeses, enjoying themselves with Megumi's dish, many others had quickly followed and added their praise. Every thanks or compliment was a boost to the blue-haired girl's confidence, her smile growing with every bowl added to the pile. Even so… she couldn't help the small sigh that came. "If it weren't for Harry, I'd probably be falling asleep by this point. I probably wouldn't have gotten such a good space either – I really need to do something to thank him for everything he's helped me with today."

It wasn't the nicest way to think of it, but the proximity of her station with Harry's meant that it was easier to poach potential eaters; as Harry drew in customers with his incredibly fancy and western food choice, they caught sight of the more traditional Japanese food that Megumi was offering and grew intrigued. Additionally, compared to admittedly heavy portions that Harry was serving until he changed his tactics, Megumi's servings were much lighter, so those who finished Harry's portions would find Megumi's easier to stomach than another heavy dish. The juxtaposition between the two options meant that for people who were looking for variety in their dishes, something that could be difficult when the dishes were all limited to eggs, having such varying meals next to each other invited them to both and it meant that Megumi could easily hold up at a similar speed to Harry.

* * *

" _Harry Potter: two hundred servings complete!"_

" _Megumi Tadokoro: two hundred servings complete!"_

"Okay, job complete," Harry muttered with a smirk, wiping his brow. With his wand beneath the work service, no one would be able to notice as the boy cancelled the spells at work; having fed quite a large number of the people browsing and with people starting to get full from eating so many dishes, the requirement to cook so intensely was vastly reduced. No doubt it was an utter nightmare for those who were struggling to reach the desired numbers, however. "Megumi, nice job!"

But she didn't respond, for she was staring off to the distance with concern written all over her face. Following her line of sight, a small flash of surprise came to Harry. Soma, with his head down, looking all but defeated as he stood before what appeared to be a full table of omelettes without a single plate taken. To somehow have a dish that looked so plain and to have failed to give out even one? It was impossible, not with the fire and fervour that the redhead usually showed, there was no way that Soma could've settled for such a basic dish. No, Harry had to narrow his eyes a little more, but he could make out the oddly wrinkled texture to the omelettes, most likely a result of whatever Soma had been planning. The only issue was, if they were all wrinkled and horrible looking, then of course no one would want to eat them - but what could Soma do? It wasn't as if he could just completely change his recipe and with only around forty minutes left to go, time was running short.

And then a miracle happened.

It had required a moment of intense muttering from the looks of things, but sudden energy re-entered the boy's stance. Looking over to the person he was next to, Erina of all people, and the immense crowd that she drew, his determination became steel and Soma prepared his burners. It was rude of Harry to think so, but thank goodness that little girl got pushed out of Erina's crowd, for she was the one to first witness Soma's incredible flip. From the size of the Yukihira was flipping compared to the shrivelled messes on the table, it was clear that his dish wasn't just any old omelette – half of a thoroughly whisked mixture of four eggs entered a pan alongside butter, a minute on medium heat and a minute and a half with a lid on resulting in a beautifully fluffy soufflé omelette that was quickly drizzled with a red wine-based tomato sauce before it was placed before the young girl. It was a dish useless as a buffet item as could be seen from the many plates still on his table, but from the sheer joy on the little girl's face, it was exactly as tasty as to be expected from Soma.

"My Lord, that's a lot of burners," Harry muttered, plating up what was looking to be his final load as the line grew smaller and smaller, especially with the intrigue that was building up around Soma's station. What had once started with four burners quickly grew to eight, then sixteen as the speed of cooking grew near exponentially; while there had been some curiosity from the younger children as they saw Harry cooking, the amount of show that was occurring at Soma's station was beyond anything Harry could've ever come up with without a little help. The redhead's hands were never still, separating egg whites from yolks at an unnaturally gifted speed as an electric mixer struggled to keep up. Into whipped egg whites went the yolks and fresh cream, seasoning to taste before the lid came off the cooked soufflé omelettes and the new batch was going in. every flip elicited a cheer, tomato sauce and parsley falling upon the plates before they were pushed out to eagerly awaiting customers. "It's almost like he's practised this before. How do you land that many omelettes from that height anyway? I still struggle with flipping pancakes when they get too high in the air."

Live cooking was something that Harry never really got a taste for; after all, cooking outside of the kitchen meant that all the attention was placed on the chef. However, there was no denying that when done correctly, it heightened the expectation of the dish and the spectacle that came with forming complete meals from the individual ingredients was an exciting event. Every time Soma finished a batch, his technique was gradually being perfected, the show becoming even more mesmerising as fewer and fewer mistakes were made, seconds shaved off. He had even managed to do something that very few would even hope to achieve; Soma managed to poach eaters from the God tongue herself, Erina looking none too pleased with that outcome. Still, as the seconds ticked down, Harry crossed his fingers; while he was certainly earning himself a large number of portions eaten, he still had a ways to go and not that much time at all.

The announcement for the rest of Polar Star concluding their two hundred servings had already been called as they entered the final minute, Megumi mere moments away from biting her nails as Soma continued at full speed. Harry took a look around; in the nearby vicinity, there wasn't a single person who had finished that wasn't watching to see if the redhead would be able to survive, even some who hadn't reached the final hurdle. Every tick of the clock hit like a hammer but even as Soma wiped the sweat off his brow, he didn't stop for a single second.

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…!

" _Soma Yukihira: two hundred servings complete!"_

It may have been by the smallest of fractions, but Soma just managed to scrape by – that was more than could be said for a fair number of chefs who fell to their knees in despair. With their name having not been called out, they had only moments before they would be asked to pack their things and prepare to be expelled. Harry gave a small cheer alongside Megumi as they began clearing their stations as fast as possible, the rest of Polar Star alongside Takumi and the same Ikumi Mito that Soma had beat in his shokugeki all gathering around him. They weren't the only ones however, for Erina was stood fuming at the sidelines while a new arrival was dangerously close to Soma's face.

"I'm so surprised! I thought you'd get something like eight servings before time ran out!" a white-haired girl remarked, stepping back with a smile and her hands behind her back as she spoke. With how pale her skin was, she almost looked like a ghost, her piercing wine-red eyes not helping that appearance at all. "That circus act you put on though was really cool to watch! Still, if you're looking for the number one position in this school, then you're not going to get it by relying on a pretty show like that. The road to the top is paved with cutting edge theory, just like my cooking! My name's Alice Nakiri by the way, the one who will stand as number one above _all_ of you. Ryo, let's go!"

"…Fine." A boy with long unkempt black hair and huge bags under his eyes strolled along, Alice giving a haughty grin before stepping off with the boy in tow. Comparing to the way that Alice held herself to the way that Ryo did was like comparing a princess and a pauper, the two looking far from compatible. There was a beat of silence for a moment, only Soma able to break it with a single question.

"Nakiri… so, she's related to you then Erina!?"

Erina could only sigh.


	9. The fancy hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On trials and trenchers.

"… _You passed the training camp. Well done."_

" _Well, it was kind of on the line for a moment, but I pulled through at the end. I told you, didn't I? I had to make sure you saw the keychain you gave me and I wasn't going to take it off."_

" _Hmph. You took Momo seriously?"_

" _Of course. What, didn't you want to see my handsome face again Momo? I worked so hard to make sure I could come back too!"_

" _Don't be such an idiot… Well, you're back, so Momo can tell you."_

"… _Eh?"_

" _Confectionary competition, in Australia. Taking place in summer. You've passed, so Momo needs tickets and hotel rooms for two."_

"… _EH?"_

" _RS rules: have to show progress or RS is disbanded. You can take half of the competition prize. Should mean five hundred Australian dollars."_

" _EH!?"_

* * *

Harry sighed as he slumped into his seat, a particularly luxurious seat belonging to a high-end limousine. The sheer expense of such a ride was something that made the black-haired boy baulk when he was first made aware of it, but Momo had ordered it without a moment's hesitation, the pink-haired girl basking in the luxury with Bucchi in the seats next to Harry.

Thanks to the small size of the Confectionary RS and the unbelievable wealth of Totsuki, the funds the pair had access to were completely excessive and the fact that the competition was meant to 'advance their research' meant that Totsuki added even more money on top of that. With Momo raised in a wealthy background and with so much free money in her hands, the short third year had gone extravagant in her spending.

The sad thing is, even the amount of money they had spent didn't come _close_ to what some of the cheapest Research Societies could send in the name of advancing their knowledge. That fact made Harry shake his head in disbelief – it suddenly made sense why Totsuki had so many businesses under its name, it would never be able to afford itself otherwise.

Had Harry been in charge of organising the trip, then he probably would've gone with something relatively middle of the ground; while he wasn't one for excess, he wasn't so much of an idiot as to let _all_ of the money they were given go to waste. Unfortunately for him, Momo had immediately exercised her authority and the decisions were made before Harry could give anything more than a small suggestion.

"So this is where we're staying…?" the boy muttered as he stepped out of the limousine, in front of what could be one of the most high-end hotels one could find in the entirety of Australia. Simply looking at the people as they passed by made Harry shiver; the clothes they wore probably cost the same amount as had been spent on him for the first eleven years of his life.

Momo didn't bat an eye at it, however, stepping into the doorway and greeting the staff awaiting with barely more than a glance in their direction. She didn't even bring in her bags, _graciously allowing_ the limousine driver to unload it so that the bellhops could bring it in for her without hesitation.

Pushing down the slight self-consciousness that was starting to well in the bottom of his stomach, Harry clutched his briefcase and other bags closer, trying his best to politely turn down the offers. While there was very little chance of it happening, he didn't want anyone accidentally messing with something that would end up in a rather _awkward_ situation. That alone had earned him a few confused stares from other patrons of the hotel, no doubt wondering why someone would ever deem it necessary to carry their stuff when there were people who were more suited for such _peasant work_.

That was how he found himself in Momo's room, face first in one of the softest beds known to mankind, waiting as his senior finished putting her stuff away. Luckily for Harry, Momo hadn't questioned why he had been so fast in unpacking his stuff, especially considering how long they were staying for; it would've been slightly embarrassing to admit he had just thrown his briefcase on the floor and shoved the other bags in the corner.

"So… you didn't really explain much of what this competition is." Harry pointed out, receiving a non-committal noise from Momo as she sat on the other side of her bed.

"Pair-based elimination competition. Six teams per group, three rounds: Invention, Selection and Expansion." Momo explained, her face turning serious as she spoke. Her sudden change in expression made Harry lift himself from the comfort of the bed – it was clear that things were now serious. "Invention round, teams must create a dish from scratch. Selection round, teams make their dish from ingredients from the market. Expansion round, teams are given an ingredient and must create a dish around that. Three teams eliminated in the Invention round, then one each in the Selection and Expansion round. Then, four teams for quarter-finals, six for semi-finals. Finals have mystery rounds."

"Sounds simple enough," Harry muttered, rolling his neck. To be honest, it partially sounded like what he had to do to pass the Totsuki entrance exam. With Momo spearheading their pair in the competition, it looked to be a piece of cake. "Though mystery rounds… they sound like they could be interesting. Any idea on our competition?"

"No. Momo secured our place and then left after confirmation." The purple-haired girl explained, Harry feeling a bead of sweat fall down his face as he gave an awkward chuckle.

"Ah yeah, there was an audition process. Which you did in both of our names. Without _asking me_." Harry sighed, letting his head fall slightly.

While it was nice to know how much confidence his senior had in his skill as a chef, the fact that she completely booked the entire summer holiday for the competition without asking what plans Harry had still stung slightly. Did she think he didn't have anything to do with his time or something?

"Well, no point in complaining now. You said the first round was the Invention round?"

"Yes. No theme, we can do what we want." Momo said. "We can access the kitchens, experiment. Momo got Totsuki to ask for permission, so we can use anything and take any ingredients."

"...Not going to complain, fair enough." it certainly eased one of Harry's fears; a hotel on the scale as the one they were staying in was bound to have an excellent kitchen and without it, they would've been forced to make their setup. "I've got a couple of ideas we could do and they probably have most of the ingredients we need. When's the first round happening again?"

"Next Monday."

"Great! Once we're done here, we might even have some time to sightsee! Let's go!"

* * *

It was clear from the moment that the pair stepped into the kitchens that a couple if the chefs were rather disdainful of their presence in their prestigious kitchen. After all, they had worked incredibly hard to have the privilege, working countless hours and raising their prestige step by step until the hotel had deemed them worthy of cooking for their clientele. In their eyes, it might as well have been letting primary school children into a university research laboratory.

"What are you doing here, hmm!? We're very busy preparing for lunch, we can't have children running about disturbing the line!" one particularly disgruntled man called out, both Harry and Momo letting out a simultaneous scoff.

He was clearly an ageing man who had seen better days, his face a mess of wrinkles and a greying beard that sneered in their direction. His figure wasn't the thinnest and his arms were covered in a rather alarming amount of hair, perhaps more than hair than could be found on the top of his head. Compared to most of the alumni who had been at the training camp, the man was rather… lacking.

Momo didn't even grace the man with words at the start, merely holding forth the letter bearing the emblem of the hotel for the man to read. The longer that he read, the more his face turned a rather strange colour, visible anger growing until he violently threw the paper to the ground.

"This is ridiculous! You think I would allow children into my kitchen simply because your school bribed your way in!?" the man growled, stomping his foot down on the paper for good measure.

"Huh, wasn't expecting that. Usually, chefs see Totsuki and they start freaking out." Harry commented, the ire of the man directed entirely on him. It was almost intimidating if the black-haired boy hadn't been faced with far worse people in his lifetime, let alone some of the creatures he had come face to face with.

"No matter how much ego and money they have, they are still a _school_. These men have graduated from their academies with the greatest grades possible and have trained in some of the grandest restaurants; I will not have people who have not proven themselves worthy in here alongside them." The man argued, Harry holding back his response. Admittedly, there was a little bit of reason in there. "Should you have graduated, then I _may_ have allowed you to _potentially_ enter our workspace. As you are now, however, I refuse to let you work in this kitchen for such a weak reason!"

"…Then Shokugeki." Momo spoke up, Bucchi gripped between increasingly tense arms as she pouted. There had never been any talk that the head chef would be so unaccommodating and it was cutting into her cooking time. "We win, you let us carry on. We lose, never come in here again."

Momo's English was understandable, yet there was no pretending she wasn't from Japan; it was a good thing that Momo never really was one for excessive talking, Harry supposed. In the competition, he would just have to be the spokesperson, for the sake of appearances if nothing else.

"Tch, that's one of those cooking duels, right? If I accept, I'm basically letting you into the kitchen anyway." The head chef growled, turning away for a moment. "…Still, I suppose we have made adequate process towards the lunch menu. Chloe!"

"Yes, sir?" A beautiful dark-haired brunette answered, wiping her hands on the towel in her back pocket so she could push her glasses back into place.

Compared to her head chef, Chloe was a goddess. With delicate freckles decorating her face and a reasonably filled figure (a feature that Harry was alarmed to realise was common with many of the female students of Totsuki - was it just a female chef thing?), she certainly made a far better impression than her boss.

"As our newest addition, I have seen fit to provide you with a test. You will cook me a dish and pit it against these two." The head chef gruffly ordered. "Should you fail, then you will lose your job in this hotel, understand?"

"Y-yes, sir," Chloe replied, blinking in confusion, her face falling into uncertainty as she turned. "U-um, so we're going to have a food battle then? I'm sorry, but I suddenly can't afford to lose."

"I understand," Harry replied, giving a stiff bow with a frown on his face. Things had suddenly taken a turn for the worse.

If they didn't win, then they would have to find an alternative place to practice their cooking that they would be able to book for the entire competition time, cutting into their time for experimentation. If they did win though, now there was going to be a woman without a job simply because her boss decided he didn't want to let them in even with permission.

"Harry. You had an idea?" Momo's whisper in Japanese drew Harry's attention away from his mental debate, the boy giving a small nod of his head. "Then take the lead."

"Er, right. We can use any of the ingredients here, right?"

"Keep your ingredients to the minimum. We have high-quality produce here and I don't want to see it wasted on child's play." The head chef warned, throwing his hands in the direction of where several different men were preparing an incredible amount of food for the lunch rush. "Make whatever you want, but when it's done, send it to me. I will choose the winner."

"Y-yes, sir!" Chloe called out, making to move towards the ingredients before accidentally tripping and falling face-first with a small cry. The act brought harsh laughter from the workers around and the disapproval of her boss, Chloe's face reddening as she moved more carefully to the store.

Though her face remained uncertain, her moment of clumsiness didn't seem to affect her cooking as she quickly began creaming together 200 grams each of butter and sugar into a light and fluffy mixture.

Harry wasn't focused on that, however; there was never going to be any doubt that Chloe could cook from the way that the head chef boasted about his kitchen. No, the part that most intrigued him was the other chefs in the kitchen, all sneaking peeks at their area with all kinds of dismissive chuckles and whispered comments.

It wasn't unreasonable. If the attitude of the head chef meant anything, they had gone through a gruelling level of education and training and some children still in school thought they could beat one of them. It was only natural for them to be dismissive, especially if they didn't know about their attendance at Totsuki.

"So, she's finally going to know her place, huh?"

"Knew she'd go out like an embarrassment."

"Shown up by kids? If there's anyone here, of course it would be her."

What Harry couldn't understand was why most of the comments were aimed at Chloe.

As the boy creamed dissolved half a tablespoon of active dry yeast and 2 tablespoons of sugar into a quarter of a cup of water, with Momo silently melting 100 grams of butter to be beaten with 200 grams of sugar, a drop of vanilla extract and 50 grams of cocoa powder, Harry found himself feeling a little bit of pity for his opponent.

Though she was trying her best to school her features and perform her job as professionally as possible, Chloe's hand still minutely shook, eyes briefly flashing towards her judgemental peers. Her job was on the line and from the sounds of the others, they were expecting to see her lose it; there was a story to be heard.

Harry didn't have any time to ponder that however, for the 3 eggs he had added to his mixture had been thoroughly combined, meaning it was time to add a teaspoon of salt and 2 cups of all-purpose flour, to be mixed at low speed for two minutes. Once that became a shaggy mess, the speed would be increased to medium and half a cup of unsalted butter would be added one tablespoon at a time along with 2 tablespoons more of flour. At that point, it would be ready to rest.

Momo was beating together her mixture with 2 eggs, 140 grams of plain flour and a pinch of salt, which would complete her mixture ready to be baked for 20 minutes.

When the other chefs saw that, they didn't think much of it, at least until they saw the purple-haired girl violently ripping the paws off Bucchi and make her way to the oven without a second thought. Suddenly, it didn't seem like an unthreatening cute child trying to enter the big leagues, but a demon that had entered their kitchen. The glare she sent in their direction when she felt their looks wasn't helping her case.

Stifling the small chuckle that threatened to escape, Harry took his dough and prepared for something special.

After all, for a normal chef, the dough would need potentially 7 and a quarter hour's resting before it could be baked. For Harry, however, he hadn't exactly told Momo what he was making and a glance made it apparent that Harry was the least interesting for the chefs watching their little Shokugeki. That meant no one batted an eye when Harry pushed the dough under the work surface and muttered beneath his breath, leaving it to sit while he brought 80 millilitres of double cream almost to a boil. When you poured that over 200 grams of dark chocolate, it would make a wonderful treat.

"Oi, Chloe! You not taking them seriously or something?" one of the chefs decided to call out, said brunette merely taking a deep breath, trying to tune out the voice as she pulled out her can of lemonade. "I could understand one of us, but you're going to need everything you have to beat those brats!"

"Noisy," Momo remarked quietly, Harry all too happy to agree. If it weren't for the fact that he could see a couple of women making the same remarks, he would've thought it was some sort of workplace sexism. As it was, it was merely cocky men wanting to see the new blood fail. "Momo's done. You?"

"Yeah, ready to go in the oven," Harry replied, pulling out a dough that could not have risen as much as it had in the short amount of time.

With a whisked egg brushed over to ensure a beautiful colour, the dough would require about 35 to 45 minutes at 180 degrees Celsius, while the brownie would need 20 minutes at the same heat. Once that was done, it was merely a case of assembly before their meal was complete.

It gave them time to observe their opponent, Chloe taking her batter and folding through 200 grams of self-raising flour in what was no doubt a cake batter. What made it strange however was that the lemonade she was holding was not for drinking, but poured directly in the mixture without a moment's hesitation.

"And now, we wait an hour…" the woman muttered as she spooned the batter into a large cake tin, put into a preheated oven at approximately 160 degrees Celsius. "Should probably get back to work while I wait…"

"Actually, I was wondering if we could have a chat."

* * *

Chloe nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the voice speak up from behind her, Harry putting on the best disarming smile he could muster while simultaneously emitting an aura of displeasure that sent shivers down Chloe's spine. She swore he had been too far away to sneak up on her so easily.

"A chat?" she parroted hesitantly, drawing a nod from Harry. "Well, I could be using the time to continue prep for lunch… but seeing as Head Chef Nikolas has reassigned my duties, I can spare the time."

"Cool. After all, I wanted to ask you about him, and everyone else here." Harry remarked, drawing a nearly invisible wince from the woman. "I mean, they weren't exactly being subtle about it, were they? What's with the attitude?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it. I'm just the newest addition, so they don't trust me yet… and I tend to mess up a couple of times, so they think I was hired by mistake…" the second half of her statement was only whispered, but it couldn't escape the ears of Harry. "Just give it some time, I'm sure they'll warm up to me! I'll just have to give it my all!"

"Unless you lose that job…" Harry added darkly, Chloe letting out nought but an awkward chuckle before their conversation died briefly.

"…These people, they don't have faith in Totsuki, you know?" the brunette eventually spoke, her voice tinged with an apologetic tone. "I mean, it's not as if they haven't heard of it, not with the kinds of people that come out of the place, but you hear the tales and it's kind of hard to view it positively. They see what they think to be unequipped kids using their academy's name to get advantages they never had when they were in training and think you're the same as the egotistic students you hear about. I'm sorry for their attitudes towards you."

"Well…" Harry would've been lying if he defended the academy; reputation was both Totsuki's greatest strength and worst weakness.

The school's ability to produce the brightest chefs of their age kept it held in high regard, but it ultimately meant that the kids who got in were bound to feel a sense of superiority over others. It wasn't as if the people in charge were planning on changing anything either, mostly because they had been through the same process and thoughts.

He had witnessed it first-hand many times. Whether it be his confrontation with Shinomiya, the many people who had come to sneer at Souma's shokugeki or even the girl watching their dish bake in the oven; Harry could count off a huge number of people who thought themselves to be of a standard above any other, simply for the school they attended.

"But that still doesn't explain why they're so cruel to you." Harry pointed out. "I mean, I guess I could understand the grievances about the new girl, but they seem to actively want you out of this place."

"It's like I said, they don't think very highly of Totsuki," Chloe muttered with a shrug, Harry's eyes widening in realisation. "Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Chloe Shiers, Totsuki graduate of the 86th generation."

" _The trial that tests one to the extreme, a journey that utilized all of your cooking knowledge and skill, the regime that has brought down thousands; Chloe Shiers, your education at Totsuki has succeeded. Congratulations. Because of your efforts, you have ascended to a stage where few will ever reach. You overcame all trials and blossomed as a chef. Regardless of your clumsiness, you will no doubt become something great in the future. However, your weakness remains even if you have briefly overcome it._

_Your time at Totsuki — our assistance to you —has come to an end. So, you should be able to figure out what comes next, yes? We will give you a letter of recommendation, but no more. Beyond that, it is up to you to find the signs for the great future that's yet to come."_

"When I was looking for a job, apparently the owner of the hotel saw that I graduated from Totsuki and immediately pushed to have me hired. For the people of this kitchen, who fought tooth and nail to get a job here after so much effort, seeing me get this as one of my first jobs was like an insult."

Harry couldn't find the words, settling for a small scoff as he watched the chefs go about their business. Admittedly, they were near flawless in what they did; though there was no doubt that someone like Erina would be able to pick out several different techniques they were performing incorrectly or inefficiently, Harry wasn't so petty as to view them as inadequate or anything like that. What he could call them was:

"Hypocritical…"

"E-excuse me?"

"Sure, Totsuki has a few problems with it. The students can be haughty and the school isn't hesitant to throw money around like nobody's business; I wouldn't have chosen a hotel as fancy as this if we were on _my_ budget." Harry expanded, leaning back against the kitchen counter with folded arms. "But there are also people in Totsuki who have none of that ego and arrogance, who are working their arses off, like you or me. If they refuse to see that simply because of a few rotten apples, then they're massive hypocrites."

Chloe was the perfect example of that as a graduate. There was no way she could've survived the harsh world that was Totsuki's education without having fought her way through perilous regimes and challenges. Taking into account the sheer differences between Totsuki and other academies, it wouldn't be unfair to say that Only issue was, letting her prove that to her colleagues meant sacrificing their opportunity in the kitchen.

"Heh, I suppose they are." Chloe quietly chuckled. "Not that they're gonna change their ways anytime soon. After all, it's either I lose my job because you guys win or nothing happens because all I did was beat a couple of school children. Lose-lose situation really."

"…I'm sure they'll get what's coming to them. Sooner than you may think actually." Was Harry's reply before he moved back towards his and Momo's kitchen, Chloe letting out a small smile. Yeah, as if that was going to happen. "Keep your faith. Maybe we can figure something out with your head chef."

* * *

Nikolas gave a small grumble as he looked to his wristwatch; as much as he didn't want to waste time he could be using ensuring the kitchen work was under control, he had to judge the stupid food duel or whatever the Japanese called it.

The only thing that had the man willing to go along with the whole insane situation was the fact that they had formed a win-win situation for him. Either those brats wouldn't be messing about in his kitchen or he could finally show the higher-ups that the new girl wasn't all that they were blagging her up to be.

Chloe was a clumsy mess of a chef and they all knew it. While she certainly could make good food and had done _reasonably_ well in her duties, her clumsiness had caused far too many accidents that cost them in time and ingredients, very precious commodities.

And despite these clear examples of liability, the academy she had gone to had their bosses thinking she was the messiah of food and they secretly advertised her as such. How many times had the chefs in the kitchens heard that they had a filled restaurant, only for the servers to remark about how they were all waiting to taste as Totsuki graduate's meal?

They treated her like a goddess while she lacked the temperament that made a good chef. Chloe was practically an airhead and from what rumours spread about Totsuki, there had never been a graduate who didn't have some sort of incredibly strange quirk. Did the higher-ups think that Totsuki was great enough that she could skip all of the trials and real-life that made a chef into a true master, especially when she held such a clumsiness?

Nikolas was drawn out of his thoughts when he heard a crash in the kitchen, preparing to yell at the girl once more. There was no doubt in his mind that Chloe had once again tripped over thin air, probably messing up half a line as she had done before.

It was why he was so surprised and angered to find that it wasn't the brunette, but one of his most trusted sous chefs, looking at his body with a look that could only be described as utter disbelief as he looked at a pile of now useless vegetables decorating the floor and himself.

He wasn't the only one, for the worktop was now covered in custard thanks to a woman who looked as if she had been possessed by some sort of ghost, barely able to comprehend how she had spilt her work. Isolated, it would've been a minor annoyance, but from the sounds of alarm and confusion, they weren't the only one experiencing such levels of chaos.

The most irritating part about it all however was that there was no discernable cause of the mishaps occurring throughout his kitchen. No matter who he 'asked' (though it was fairer to call it something akin to 'major scolding'), the only answers Nikolas received were vague mutters like 'I just tripped' or 'something just came over me'. Now they had tons of produce that they would either have to struggle to salvage or completely give up on.

A vein appeared on Nikolas' forehead when he saw the lone place that didn't seem to be affected by any of the mysterious chaos; the Totsuki brats and Chloe's workspaces were flawlessly clean, two cloches waiting for him to judge.

Chloe herself was looking around with concern, torn between awaiting judgement and helping out her fellow chefs while the other girl was watching the scene with a look of disdain upon her face. It was the boy however that irked Nikolas the most, for he could barely contain his laughter from the looks of things. If it wasn't impossible for him to have caused so many problems in such a short period, Nikolas would've thought him responsible.

"Right, let's get this stupid thing out of the way so we can get back to work." the elderly chef growled, stomping over to their area." Chloe, you first, don't make this a waste of my time."

"Y-yes, sir." Came the timid reply, her nerves meaning Chloe almost dropped the cloche as she revealed the contents beneath.

There were many things that Nikolas could've seen; without having given a theme, the chefs had been free to make whatever they wished. The beautifully crafted sandcastle, however, surrounded by carefully formed fish made of jelly and beautifully rippled chocolate shells, was far beyond what he had been expecting. The carving required to make such an elegant structure spoke much to Chloe's carving skills, every detail one could imagine painstakingly recreated.

"A Sandcastle?" the head chef murmured, drawing his finger over the sand beneath and bringing it delicately to his lips. Just as he expected, the sweetness of brown sugar filled his mouth, a small nod escaping him. "An interesting choice aesthetically, but that amount of brown sugar has no doubt ruined the taste of the actual dish. If the flavour is overpowered by the decoration, then what point is there to cooking in the first place?"

"Please sir, have a taste. I believe it will surprise you." The certainty in the brunette's voice made an eyebrow rise, but Nikolas too the slice he was given regardless.

Met with a beautiful crumb, one that practically sprung back from his fork, the man carefully began to appraise. Whether it was a dish meant to feed some of the most influential people in the world or a casual creation for a stupid reason like this, the head chef would not dare hold back in his criticism; he would give his all to ensure perfection.

And yet he struggled to find anything wrong with the bake, the picture-perfect slice before him. The colouration was spot on and the aroma drew you in, a thin line of blue in the centre of the slice making Nikolas give a small hum of approval as he brought a piece to his mouth.

"I see, so you attempted to counter the sweetness with macerated blueberries." The man said, carefully chewing his bite to ensure the maximum flavour. "While the cake itself and the coating naturally has a large amount of sweetness, using macerated berries adds an acidity that balances out the flavours while also adding a hint of zest that elevates the cake."

Most people would've used a jam to fill the cake, but the amount of sugar needed to make a jam would've made the cake overpoweringly sweet with the brown sugar sand coating; even to those who enjoy incredibly sweet dishes, it would've been excessive. By using macerated berries, smoky, spicy and zesty notes were introduced that helped bring the necessary compliments to make it more palatable, to the extent where the external sugar was almost necessary for the cake itself rather than an addition.

"But how did you get it so fluffy? A normal cake wouldn't be so light…" Nikolas mused, not truly realising how much of his slice he had consumed as he tried to figure out the secret. Well, not a secret, for Chloe happily pulled out the item responsible with a hesitant smile.

"Well, I just added this," Chloe remarked, taking a sip of the lemonade from the can. "I kind of discovered it by mistake. I was trying to have a drink when I accidentally tripped and poured some in the cake I was making. In the end, it tasted delicious though, so I kept making it!"

Of course, it made sense. The carbonation within the lemonade would be caught inside the cake batter, resulting in the deliciously light texture that kept you craving more, while also adding the distinct lemon flavour that permeated the cake and merged so beautifully with the blueberries. With such a simple inclusion, what would otherwise be quite a basic cake was taken to an entirely new flavour and texture level, practically melting away on the tongue. Before Nikolas knew it, there were only crumbs left of his slice.

Nikolas let out a satisfied sigh, the elderly man feeling as if he had been whisked off to a shining beach. Happily sipping upon lemonade and soaking up the sun, a bright flavour filled his mouth, a magnificent sandcastle standing proud before him. Just when it felt as if the sand might become overwhelming, the ocean splashed over the man, an ocean formed of perfectly macerated blueberries that refreshed and delighted the taste buds.

"Hmm. An adequate response." Nikolas declared with a cough to hide his growing pleasure. "Well then brats, what have you made. If it can't stand up to that, then you'll have to shove it."

"Hmph." Was the elegant response from Momo as she lifted their cloche, Nikolas and Chloe leaning in to see what could rival the hotel chef's creation.

When they looked at the rather plain round loaf, there was a brief moment of confusion.

"This dessert is just like girls – the true beauty is inside." Harry jokingly commented as he cut into the loaf, revealing the treasures held within, slices coming to the hands of both Chloe and Nikolas.

One only had to look to see how complex the flavours were; the seemingly innocuous brioche loaf hid thick layers of rich chocolate brownie, beautiful raspberries, shortbread, cream cheese and ganache. All very simple components by themselves, but together, they formed a marvellous journey for the mouth, each flavour leading and melding into the next with almost inhumane unity.

"Is that a brioche trencher?" Nikolas asked in disbelief – his tongue didn't lie, there was nothing else it could've been. Yet the amount of time he had allowed them meant there was no way they could've possibly made brioche in that short a period. "You've used the brioche as a carrier for all of the other flavour components, pairing the rich brownie and ganache with light berry and citrus flavours. All compressed to make the flavours mingle."

The brownie and ganache were the first to hit the tongue, a beautifully soft and gooey mouth feel and a rich full-bodied flavour caressing the tongue. That was followed by the sweetened creamy cream cheese and raspberries, a mellowing sensation followed by a more subtle sweetness that helped calm the aggressive chocolate flavours. With all of that, the brioche didn't need any excessive flavours; it was merely a buttery bread that capped off the experience elegantly.

If Chloe's cake had been like a beach, Momo and Harry's creation brought them to a sauna – the experience at first could be considered near overwhelming with the level of chocolate, yet the longer that they savoured the dessert, tempered by the over flavours, the more they felt refreshed and revitalised.

Both chefs elicited a sigh of delight, Harry silently holding his hand out to the side for Momo to high-five. His hand lingered for perhaps a few moments before it was clear she wasn't going to respond.

"Well, it's clear who the winner is," Nikolas said, disgruntled and clearly displeased with the result. "You brats can use this kitchen. Chloe…"

"Yes, sir…"

"Get out. You have proven less skilled than children still in culinary education. People like that have no place in my kitchen!"


	10. The new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of contests and Caspar.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?"

"Excuse me?" Nikolas said to Harry's comment, the man giving a small disgruntled huff. "I wasn't talking to you. Our business is done. You won. So long as you don't use too much of our products or take up too much space, you are allowed to work in this kitchen, as we agreed. What occurs from this point on is none of your business."

"I know, I know. I just think you're making a rather bad mistake." The boy remarked in return, fumbling about beneath the work surface until he released a happy sound. "There it is! Here, have a taste of this."

Nikolas looked at the pie slice held in Harry's hands, a suspicious expression falling upon his face. There wasn't anything inherently strange about the dessert, not at all. It looked rather simple, if professionally made, and from the smell that was coming to the head chef's nostrils, it was a well-made pie. He just couldn't see why the boy would be offering it.

"Harry," Momo muttered, her disapproval clear upon her face. It was reasonable when Harry thought about it – they had gotten what they needed and now he was just 'wasting' time. Harry could accept her anger later though, he had a point to make.

"Please, don't worry about it. I'm sure I can find a job elsewhere." Chloe was quick to interrupt, a pleading look glowing in her eyes, but Harry merely shook his head as he thrust the pie forward. "You made an agreement with Head chef Nikolas, but he gave me a _separate_ ultimatum. You don't have to involve yourself in this."

"But I want to. The moment he eats the pie, he'll understand. I'm sure of it." Harry pressed, a heavy aura forming around the boy as his eyes and tone grew cold, every ounce of that taunting presence focused on the head chef. "The proof is in the pudding, is it not? So eat it and see."

In the face of that, there was no way Nikolas' pride would allow him to back down, taking the plate and carefully inspecting the offered portion.

The pleasant scent of herbs wafted towards his nose as the head chef held it close; tarragon, thyme and rosemary, all working in tandem to lend their subtle flavours to the main star of the pie.

And what a main star it was – as soon as Nikolas took a bite, the meatiness of a perfectly roasted chicken coated his mouth, no doubt having been roasted whole to properly utilise the umami held within such magnificent meat. With a strong base like that, the rest of the filling didn't need to be too complex with only mirepoix and chicken stock, thickened with flour to give it the perfect consistency.

Fully encased in the shortcrust pastry, crumbly and perfectly baked, there was nothing the head chef could immediately question; no, the pie deserved quite high praise. Sprinkled on top with additional thyme and sea salt to complete the seasoning triangle, Nikolas had no reason to stop himself from eating the rest of his portion.

The taste transported Nikolas to a completely different world, a world where he could finally hang up his chef's hat and enjoy the luxury that he ensured their guests were treated to. With gentle violins playing in the background and the magnificence of the hotel's dining hall surrounding Nikolas, the head chef was momentarily lost in the elegance and detailed care that went into creating the chicken pie.

"Seems like you enjoyed that." Harry's comment broke the older man out of his musings, snapping him back into the cold harsh reality that was the kitchens. Nikolas didn't like the smirk that appeared on the boy's face. "Now that you've tasted that, tell me: which do you prefer? That pie or the sandcastle cake?"

Momo let out a small huff at the question, turning away and walking away with only a moment's glance at Harry. To any other person, it may seem like an act of pure boredom, or perhaps irritation at the fact that Harry was wasting the time they had earned. Harry knew better, however; it may not have been much, but it was her silent manner of showing she realised the situation and didn't need to see the outcome.

At first, there was a moment of silence as Nikolas stared deeply into Harry with suspicion, Harry returning it with sheer confidence and a challenging aura. In the back of his mind, Harry was quite proud of himself; while he certainly could produce a taunting sense by himself, it had been the Shokugekis he had watched that taught the black-haired boy the special kind of cockiness that the Totsuki chefs held.

In the end, Nikolas' debate wasn't even necessary. Harry could see the answer in the man's eyes.

"Though there is admittedly much to praise about the pie… the cake does seem better by a small margin. Now, what's your point?" Came the gruff response, Nikolas folding his arms.

Harry didn't immediately reply, instead taking another slice of the sandcastle cake and pointedly taking his time with savouring a bite, a texture both familiar and surprising easily enjoyed by Harry. While it was exaggerated, it wasn't by much; it was certainly an excellently made dessert after all.

"My point is, this cake is a perfect example of why you shouldn't be getting rid of Chloe," Harry remarked, casually swinging about his fork as he did so. "A perfect example of how she has turned one of her greatest weaknesses into a powerful tool for cooking. She's clumsy, but because of that, she managed to create a special cake beyond the normal. Plus, by using brown sugar upon the outside, she both managed to add to the flavour and created a method of decorating that didn't require precision to look beautiful. Even then, she's shown skill and precision through the careful carving and creation of the sandcastle's shape. No sane kitchen would want to get rid of someone who could make something like this."

"But I think what's most important here, is that you said it was better than the pie. The pie that _your other staff created."_

It had been a real mess trying to get that piece of pie intact and in his hands without anyone else noticing. Not only did Harry have to contend with the men rushing about trying to clean and salvage what they could, but a large amount of the pie had also been ruined, so getting a piece that wouldn't give the act away immediately had been incredibly awkward. That wasn't even taking into account trying to levitate the piece to him without anyone seeing, lest he incriminate himself for some of the other… accidents.

It was all worth it see the souring face that Nikolas had however as the older man realised the implications. At that moment, Nikolas shared a remarkable resemblance to his uncle Vernon; at first, there were no words, then there was incoherent spluttering and to top it all off, a wonderful spruce colour coming over the head chef's face.

"So, you're trying to get rid of the one person on your team who not only graduated from one of the most prestigious cooking schools in the world, but also managed to find ways to overcome the weaknesses you quoted as evidence and can make food better than your other staff. I'm sure the hotel management would be quite interested in hearing about that." Harry calmly continued.

"T-this proves absolutely nothing! Not only are they completely different foods, but it's also a single case scenario! One good creation doesn't excuse all of the other messes that she's made!" the head chef growled, Harry giving a small wince as he was forced to wipe the small droplets of spittle that now decorated his face.

" _We thank whichever chef created the bamboo shoot gratin we had for our meal; the food was absolutely exquisite and we will certainly be coming back for more_." their attention was drawn to where Momo was casually sitting atop one of the cleanest worktops, taking the card she had been reading from and swapping it for another with a bored expression upon her face. "Another: _I wish to thank the staff profusely for the food we ate today. The roast beef that we ordered was cooked perfectly to our specifications and the taste was so amazing, I didn't want the experience to end._ _I recommend this hotel restaurant to anyone who can visit, regardless of price._ Momo has more."

And by more, she meant a whole pile of cards, all elegantly detailed with the hotel's branding and the word 'review' proudly emblazoned across the top. Letting them fall across the worktop, the purple-haired girl flung one in the direction of Nikolas, the card hitting the head chef directly in the nose before he could even think of catching it.

"I…I remember those." Chloe quietly said, picking one of the cards up with a reminiscing smile. "The Gratin was originally meant to be the typical potato gratin, but I accidentally messed up all of the potatoes. We were lucky we have the bamboo shoots available, even if I did have to bulk it out with onion, asparagus, chicken and pasta. The roast beef… the oven decided to go crazy on me, so I had to only use the pan to make it. I was lucky it came out as well as it did."

The meaning wasn't lost on the head chef, whatever arguments concocted in his mind dying as he looked to the cards in his hands. Chloe meanwhile was looking between the review cards with a sense of bliss, recounting story after story.

To be quite honest, Harry and Momo were reading the cards with a look of disbelieving fascination; if all of those cards were linked to some sort of strange accident, then maybe Chloe was worse than they had first imagined.

Shaking his head, Harry prepared himself to deliver the final blow. While it was clear that Nikolas didn't need it, there was no reason not to, a smirk appearing on his face. Perhaps he was enjoying this just a little too much.

"Well, someone seems to be loved by the clientele of this place. Imagine the uproar that would happen if they find one of their favourite chefs was fired? Imagine how the owners would react if they find their customers boycotting the restaurant because of a rash decision by their head chef. A head chef, mind you, who looks as if he's conveniently approaching… _retirement_ age."

"…Fine, you know what? This isn't worth the effort." Nikolas eventually declared, throwing the card back onto the pile. "Chloe."

"Y-yes, sir!?"

"You're staying on the team. But you listen closely; you lost today to people who go to the same academy that you graduated from. You better up your game or you might find yourself leaving this kitchen for good. I won't have anything but the best of the best in this kitchen, so you better live up to the reputation Totsuki graduates have. Do you understand me?" the head chef stated, the smile on the brunette's face growing as she heard her superior's words.

"Of course sir! Thank you!" Chloe replied, barely able to contain her relief as Nikolas gave a gruff scoff.

"Right. Get back to work then and help these idiots clean up." Came the barked order, every chef in hearing distance flinching at Nikolas' tone. No doubt there would be some serious talks occurring once work was done. "Oi, did I tell you lot you could stop?! You caused this mess, now rescue it!"

"Well, looks like it's a win-win situation for everyone." Harry sighed, clapping his hands together before turning with a curious look to Momo, said girl playing with the cards and performing tricks almost like a trained magician. "Where did you even get these things anyway Momo? It's not like they're just going to have these things just hanging around for anyone to grab."

"Parents come here. Considered VIPs. Momo just asked for Chloe's reviews." Momo explained, before a dark expression came over her face. "Don't do this again. It was unnecessary. A bother."

"Hey, to be fair, you started the Shokugeki." Harry retorted, throwing his hands up. "It's not my fault he brought someone innocent into it because he couldn't be bothered to cook. She's a Totsuki _graduate_ , a place like this shouldn't be firing her over _anyone else_ here."

"Totsuki graduates can handle themselves." Momo countered, Harry faltering. Yeah, that was true, it wasn't as if she wouldn't have been able to find a job anywhere else. "You wasted experiment time. You'll have to make it up to Momo."

"Right, right, I'll find something to make it up to you."

"Thank you, both of you! I seriously thought I was going to be out of a job then." Chloe called out as she ran up to them, bowing as deeply as she possibly could. "If it weren't for you messing with head chef Nikolas like that, he probably wouldn't have changed his mind at all. It was lucky that he was thrown off by all of the mess as well… I still don't know how everyone else could mess up like that rather than me…"

The brunette's remarks were met by a huff from Momo; clearly, the whole debacle had done little to endear Chloe to her junior.

"Well, who knows? Just be grateful than it happened." Harry jovially shrugged. "Besides, we're all from Totsuki; that means we have to look after each other and the reputation of the school, right? It would've been worse if we just left you to flounder when we can do something to help."

"Ah, how sweet of you! Now I kind of feel bad for holding back in our Shokugeki."

"…What." Momo and Harry spoke at the same time, their differing emotions suddenly converging into a single one – disbelief. Their looks only made Chloe awkwardly chuckle and play with a few strands of her hair, turning away.

"Y-you know… even with my job on the line, I didn't want to hurt your chance at working in the kitchen or make you feel like you're bad chefs, so I might've… held back just a tiny bit." Chloe explained, a small pout coming up to her face when Harry and Momo's expressions refused to change. "Why are you looking at me like that? You saw those review cards, I'm really good!"

Momo didn't reply, merely choosing to harshly send her elbow into Harry's stomach. The boy recoiled with a cough; despite the purple-haired girl's petite size, she packed a hefty amount of strength in those tiny muscles.

"Yeah, I kinda deserve that… nice to know this victory's been voided…"

* * *

Fortunately, once that debacle had been sorted out and Harry made sure to keep Chloe at a certain distance away from a grudge-bearing Momo, they were able to get their work done with few issues. Even if Harry's RS leader's pride was still injured by Chloe's admission, she wasn't so petty as to let it hurt her chances at the competition.

In the end, they decided that there was no reason not to simply go with the berry brownie brioche; with the opportunity to do whatever they wanted for the first round, there was no reason not to. If it managed to get the approval of a prestigious hotel's head chef, then there was more than a fair chance that the judges would find it worthy.

Harry expected his partner to be a little more than upset with that conclusion – it felt like they didn't need all of the time they had been busy fighting for, time they could've spent doing more exciting things like sightseeing or simply enjoying themselves in another country. When the boy brought it up with his senior, he had only received a moment of silence before she spoke a single sentence.

"It was useful. And fun. So long as we have a winning dish, it wasn't wasted."

That was what led them to the giant area where the competition would be taking place, several workspaces prepared to accommodate such a large amount of chefs cooking at the same time. Harry was genuinely in awe; he never expected it to be a small occasion, but the grand scale of the whole operation was on another level.

There were chefs of all sorts of skill levels milling about the area, all going through their routines to calm their nerves or prepare themselves for the cooking ahead.

A couple was whispering sweet nothings to one another, a man roughly around their age that was shouting to the heavens to the embarrassment of his partner and a woman filing her nails with unrivalled confidence to her look. They were just a small sample of the people Harry could see and that wasn't even counting the people who had come to watch the actual chefs.

Harry merely contented himself with gazing around the arena while Momo played with Bucchi. There had been more than a few people who looked at them in confusion because of that, no doubt questioning whether a 'child' like Momo was meant to be in the kitchen rather than the audience seating.

"Really big place, isn't it?"

"Whoa!" Harry cried out as he jumped forward, the presence behind him chuckling as he sat on the nearby railing with a cheeky grin. "Um, yeah, it is. Didn't need the jumpscare though."

"Well, gets rid of the adrenaline, doesn't it?" the ashen haired boy said with an unrepentant shrug, Harry shaking his head. "But you and your friend over there seem pretty chill. This isn't some small competition you know? There's some real prestige with winning."

"We're proud of what we're making. So long as we make food that's to _our_ standards, then we'll make the best food out there – simple." Harry replied with a grin of his own, the other boy's excitement visibly growing as he leapt off his impromptu seat.

"I like it! Either you're going to be the best pair here… or you're leaving in the first round. You can never tell with these confident people." The boy jokingly sighed, throwing his hands behind his head. "Name's Caspar. As you probably guessed, one of your competitors. Shame we're not in the same block though. I want to see your faces when you get eliminated so early by me."

"What were you saying about confident people?" Harry retorted with a snort. "Don't underestimate us. We may just end up being your most difficult challenge."

"Looking forward to it! Need to get back to my partner though, I guess the next time we meet, we'll be enemies." Caspar said, absently pointing off to the distance where, if Harry squinted, he could make out a girl pouting and gesturing wildly in their direction. "See you around…?"

"Harry, Harry Potter. My partner's Momo. Don't expect her to talk to you."

"Fair enough. See you around, Harry. We'll see who comes out on top!"

Harry watched as Caspar sped off, wincing slightly as his partner immediately began to tear into the carefree boy. There was something about Caspar that seemed… strange, almost artificial. While talking to Caspar hadn't been too bad, it left Harry with an indescribable sensation running down his spine, a feeling that the black-haired boy did not like one bit.

"Harry. Stop talking to the enemy." Momo ordered as soon as Harry returned, even Bucchi somehow looking irritated as Harry held up his hands in surrender.

"Not like it's doing any harm… you really need to make some more friends anyway." Harry muttered with a small chuckle, only to choke on his words as his senior's strike connected with his body once more. "Can we stop doing that, please? I don't want this to be a recurring thing…"

"When you're not an idiot. Get ready." Momo said, mere moments before the chatter of their fellow competitors died down, people moving to the various workspaces as a man stepped up at the front. "It's time."

Their host was a sprightly figure, proudly dressed in an elegant suit with brown hair in a style that spoke of a paycheque perhaps just a little too large. It did little to detract from his welcoming attitude however, his smile melting more than a few women's hearts in the audience.

"We've got a nice turnout today!" the man exclaimed, his eyes alight with glee as he looked over the competitors. "Welcome, every one of you, to our fine kitchen for the thirty second Golden Apple competition! I'll be your host, Elwyn Reagan."

"The moment you stepped through those doors and took your place at your work area, you've declared war on your fellow chefs; I hope you have what it takes to survive. This year is the thirty-second time our esteemed competition has occurred and we have had some amazing people competing; if you wish to be remembered, you will have to go far and beyond what any normal man or woman can achieve. After all, only one team can be deemed Golden Apple standard. First, allow me to introduce your judges!"

The first to appear on stage was an energetic blonde, no older than her early twenties from appearances. With a bright smile as she waved at the competitors, she seemed to radiate innocence and purity. Harry didn't even need to turn around to know there were more than a few guys this time who had their hearts stolen.

The second in comparison was far calmer, a proud posture to his stride as the silver-haired man strode out, carrying an intricately carved cane that tapped against the ground with a heavy thud. With the light glinting off his glasses and a somewhat menacing grin to his face, the elderly man looked more suited to a movie villain than a competition judge, but perhaps a frightening appearance was exactly what was needed.

They were followed by a stern man with cyan hair, paired with a navy suit and a disinterested expression. Constantly checking his watch and mumbling something beneath his breath, it didn't take much to guess he didn't exactly want to be there. Still, compared to the somewhat comical impressions his fellow judges gave, he looked to be the most grounded.

"Starting with the shining star of the Grand Marie, one of the greatest bakeries in all of Australia, Cordelia Flayn! With as many awards as she has under her belt, who better to judge your creations?" Elwyn began, the now named Cordelia openly preening underneath the attention. "Well, maybe it's Eric Moriarty, the proud owner of several different restaurants with some of the best dessert menus you can ever imagine!"

"I'll be honest – If I find some good ideas, I'll be trying to steal them for my menus. Who knows? Maybe I'll even offer the creator a chance to work for one of my restaurants as well." Eric remarked with a chuckle, an unreadable aura entering his form as some competitors immediately perked up at the offer.

"And finally, we have the famous French pâtissier, owner of the world-renowned patisserie, Cutting Edge – Daniel Anders! This time though, he'll be cutting down the competition!" the host continued, turning to the blue-haired man with an eager expression.

It would take a second before it was clear Daniel wasn't going to say a word, Elwyn left to awkwardly cough and continue with his spiel.

"These are the people who you'll have to please and they certainly won't be going easy on you for sure. Mess up and you won't even make it through the first round!" the man called out. "And speaking about that, let me give you a rundown of how this competition works. Round one is Invention: Use all of your skills to make an impressive dessert for the judges, or risk being one of three sent packing immediately. If you make it to the Selection, then you're gonna be given a budget and a time limit to run about the market to make your dish. Survive that and you'll have to face the expansion, a creating a dish around a special mystery ingredient. Be warned though; once we hit the finals, who knows what could happen?"

Harry rolled his neck as he heard the ripping of strings beside him, holding back his chuckles when he saw a couple of the nearby contestants suddenly look upon Momo in a new light as she prepared herself to bake. Perhaps now that the competition was truly about to begin, they would finally be taken somewhat seriously.

"Now then, there's no time like the present to begin the Invention, right? We have our judges, you have your ingredients and there are two hours on the clock – make something to wow the judges or you're out! Cordelia, care to count them down?"

"Right-right!" the blonde eagerly declared, throwing her hand up with a massive grin. "We're looking for the best of the best, so you better not disappoint me! Your time starts in three… two… one…"

"Go-go-go!"

* * *

There was a splendid mix of different dishes from the first batch of competitors, the judges carefully analysing the work of the teams as they strolled between the various stations. Some were clearly more confident in their creations than others, yet there wasn't a boring dessert being made from first impressions.

A pair of twins effortlessly worked around one another with almost telepathic unity, confident smirks on their faces as they drained a tin of its liquid into a mixer along with cream of tartar, no doubt trying to stabilise whatever it was they were creating.

Cordelia might've initially been somewhat confused when she peered into the tin and found it full of chickpeas, but she knew better than to immediately dismiss the choice; if they managed to make it past the audition process, they certainly wouldn't make a foolish dessert so soon after.

Eric found himself drawn to a table on the other side, one that most others would've been repulsed by due to the rather questionable scents wafting from the table. The durian sitting open may not have smelt the greatest, but it would no doubt taste excellent, so long as it was handled properly.

And from the looks of the chefs handling it, it most likely would be. Well, when they weren't exchanging almost sickeningly romantic looks at one another. If it weren't for the older man tapping his cane on the ground with a small cough, Eric wasn't too sure how long they would've remained embraced, the two returning to their cooking as if nothing happened.

Compared to his fellow judges, Damien didn't find as much joy in assessing the chefs in their work. He had agreed to act as a judge, but that didn't mean he had to get friendly with the people who were simply going to be eliminated by the end of a round or two. Considering how some of them were acting, the blue-haired man would be pleasantly surprised if they even managed to get a dish onto the judging table.

The boy he was closest to practically jumped the moment that Damien gave him a passing glance, only the giant man holding onto his shoulder keeping the boy from freaking out entirely. They may not have the attitude one would expect of a chef, but the chocolate cream they had formed before them, delicate flecks of red poking through, still seemed like it held potential. Damien would just have to hold bite his tongue and see what happened.

While some of the judges might not have shown it, each was fully pleased with what they came across, an interesting mix of characters and they hadn't even looked over the other groups yet. It was a shame that they had so much talent crammed into one group; with the elimination process, some very skilled chefs may have to say goodbye early.

"What's got you so irritated Momo? They're judges, of course they're gonna be watching us." Harry whispered as he worked on the brioche dough, watching as the twitch in his senior's face got progressively worse and worse.

It had only started a short while ago, yet Momo seemed to have noticed something in the distance and her displeasure had been growing by the second, Harry had been hoping that it would stop after a moment, yet it didn't seem to be abating any time soon.

"Not the judges. Your _friend_." Momo replied, a cat-like hiss entering her voice as she momentarily diverted her eyes to the seating around them. With just a hint of confusion on his face, Harry followed her sightline, met by the most curious thing.

Caspar was sitting with his arms folded, watching the whole scene play out with an incredibly intense stare, one that if stares could kill, would most likely have murdered them all in seconds.

Harry could barely believe his eyes. It was nothing like the cheerful jovial boy who had been talking to him before. The sheer darkness emanating off Caspar could be felt down Harry's spine and he wasn't even the one being looked at. At least, until the ashen haired boy's head suddenly swivelled around, meeting Harry's eye with an unreadable intensity.

Only, it didn't hold the same ferocity as when Caspar was looking upon the others. The moment that his eyes met Harry, they suddenly brightened up with a pleasant smile, even a cheeky wave as if he hadn't been seen glaring so angrily at the others. Not even his partner seemed to be too sure about the ashen haired boy, for the moment that he stopped looking at Harry, Caspar had reverted to his glaring once more. It was honestly quite disturbing to Harry.

"Just ignore him Momo. Probably just trying to psyche out the competition." Harry reassured, looking to his dough with an affirmative nod. So long as he kept to this pace, it should be ready just in time for the final construction. "Besides, aren't you the third seat of the Totsuki Elite Ten? What are _you_ doing get concerned about someone looking at you funnily?"

"Not concerned. Annoyed." Momo took care to correct with a look before the purple-haired girl returned to her batter. Smooth texture and rich colour, exactly how they had made it the first time. "People here don't know we're from Totsuki. They underestimate us. He doesn't see you as a threat for some reason."

"Only makes it easier in the end for us. If he doesn't give his all against us, then we'll just make him regret it." Harry reasoned with a shrug. "I would've thought you were used to people underestimating you, what with the whole…"

"…Momo got used to it, doesn't mean Momo likes it." The purple-haired girl replied bitterly, green eyes narrowing. "Even if they underestimate Momo's appearance, they still feared the third seat. Here, they don't show _that_ fear. They _only_ treat Momo like a child. They laugh at Bucchi. There's no respect."

"Then we've just got to make them respect us. So long as we make good food, they'll know how great we are, Totsuki or not." Harry reassured, throwing a hand over the smaller girl's shoulder as she gave a nod. "All we can do now is cook until we're holding the grand prize. One taste and they'll never underestimate you again."

"…Momo knows." She replied before a hand quickly shoved Harry's off Momo's shoulder. "Momo is also your senior. You need to show respect as well."

"Fine, fine. What did I do to deserve such a touchy RS leader?"

"Grr…!"

* * *

"Caspar… you're glaring again." The blonde beside him warned, the ashen haired boy shaking his head before settling in a slightly more welcoming expression. "What's with you? Ever since you talked to that boy, you've been acting like this."

"Sorry, Ingrid. I'm just… so excited!" Caspar gasped, struggling to stay in his seat.

His words managed to earn him a dull stare from his partner, the girl taking a moment to palm her face before speaking again.

"Well, you have a very weird way of showing it." She muttered. Then again, what about Caspar _wasn't_ weird? There hadn't been a time in the many years they had known each other where Ingrid could consider him normal at all. "You look at them like they're bugs stuck to your shoe."

"I just can't help it. Seeing them out there… this is perfect." Caspar explained, his smile growing manic for a second. "I've analysed every single one of their desserts and it's nothing compared to what we're capable of. We have this competition down flat."

"Is that what you've been doing?" Ingrid sighed, throwing her braid over her shoulder as she watched the ongoing dishes. "You need to get over this unhealthy obsession. You could've done so much if you'd just sto-!"

"Ingrid. Did I ever tell you to give up on your dream?" Caspar interrupted, the girl pausing awkwardly before a silent scoff escaped her. "Exactly. We achieved what you wished to achieve and you promised that you would help me achieve my goals in return. You wouldn't be backing out of your promise now, would you?"

"No, you know that… it's just, you get weird when it comes to your ambitions." Ingrid tried to reason. "The only people you haven't been glaring at are the judges, me and that guy you were talking to before. What makes that boy so special anyway compared to everyone else?"

"Can't you tell Ingrid? Unlike everyone else here, he's a true test of our abilities. There's something different about him, you can feel it when you're next to him. He and his partner are going to be our greatest challenges here."

Ingrid narrowed her eyes. Well, it wasn't as if what they were making looked bad, but was it truly that different compared to anyone else in the competition? Sure, their movements seemed to be sharper than some of the other chefs, but Caspar was treating it as if they were dragons walking among men.

"Wait, so because you think they're the _greater_ threat, you don't glare at them and you glare at the others because they are _less_ of a threat?" Ingrid questioned her partner, receiving a bright smile and a nod. "How does that even work Caspar? That's just ridiculous."

"It's simple when you think about it. You have to treat everyone as they deserve to be treated. The weaklings are treated as weaklings while the true opponents are treated as if they're on the same level. Treat someone as you would treat yourself, right?" Caspar said nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat while Ingrid let out a small laugh.

"You really saying if someone treated you like that, you'd be fine with that?" the blonde replied, Caspar silently for a moment.

"So long as they were a better chef than me, of course. What reason would I have to object to that?" the ashen haired boy stated, throwing up a hand before Ingrid could try and continue to argue. "Look, this isn't about me you know. It's not like anything interesting's going to happen while everyone waits for their stuff to bake. Why don't we get some fresh air, you start getting a bit irritable when in crowds for too long."

"Excuse me? What do you mean irritable!?" Ingrid objected, only for Caspar to already be halfway towards the door with a nonchalant tune upon his lips.

Sometimes, she wondered why they were still friends. Caspar was so hard to read at times that it was almost as if they were complete strangers. Still, he had been a good friend nevertheless. The least that Ingrid could do was return the favour.


	11. The first judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On appraisals and apples.

"Here you go!"

"A kiwi and passionfruit Eton mess…"

"…That's completely vegan!"

Harry shook his head with a grin as the two twins finished each other's sentence. The black-haired boy had thought he had escaped such antics when he left Hogwarts and the Weasley twins. Hopefully, they didn't hold the same penchant for pranking that the ginger boys had; he still didn't know how the Weasley twins pulled off half of what was spoken about them.

Their behaviour could be put aside however, the dish the judges were examining far more important. After all, though they admitted their dessert was vegan, it looked no different from any regular Eton mess, far greater than any Harry had ever seen in truth. Then again, they were in a highly competitive contest; if it were any less than spectacular, it never would've gotten them this far.

"They're confident." Momo commented quietly by his side, the smallest glint of curiosity in her eyes.

"They have to be." Harry replied.

If the twins weren't confident about how good it tasted, then it would've immediately failed. Even made normally, Eton mess was a relatively basic dessert – berries, broken meringue and cream. For such a dish to shine as brightly as some of the other challengers', the taste had to blow the judges away.

The fact that they made it vegan only made it harder for the twins. Substituting the eggs and cream meant the entire final product changed and if those changes weren't properly considered, they would never stand up to the original. That was no doubt the reason why no strawberries featured in the twins' Eton mess despite being such a classic feature.

"…So, you made meringues using aquafaba then." Damien was the first to speak, his words harsh even when making a neutral comment. "Because water will never stiffen, you used cream of tartar to stabilise the mixture and gain the appropriate texture. The Meringues lack the same flavour provided by the eggs."

"You say that as if it tastes bad Mr Anders." Eric quipped beside him, the older man eagerly admiring the bite upon his spoon as if it were some precious art to behold. For these kinds of people, it was in a certain sense. "Despite using chickpea water, the flavour of chickpeas doesn't come through. Instead, a wonderfully light and tropical coconut flavour!"

"Yes! We used some…"

"Coconut water in the mix…"

"To complement the other flavours!" the white-haired twins announced proudly, beaming smiles on their faces still. Then again, from what Harry had seen in small glimpses, they were naturally bubbly girls, the kind that required more than one man's grumpy comments to bring down their joy.

"Ooh! So that's why they taste so good!" Cordelia cheerfully said, taking more into her mouth. Far from the elegant pâtissier that had stood before them, now the blonde looked more like a child given their favourite food. "I thought that was just because of the coconut cream you used to replace with the whipped cream!"

It was a natural line of thinking; if they were already going to be using coconut cream in their dish, why not accentuate the flavour by using in the coconut water as well? By doing so, the twins managed not only to replace the ingredients, but the lost flavours as well with something potentially greater than before, all for the sake of making their dish acceptable for all.

"Your choice of kiwi and passionfruit is good. Their flavours are unique and stand out well against the intense coconut. Rather than be overpowered, they work in harmony where traditional berries would not have." Damien concluded begrudgingly, what seemed to be the closest he would get to open approval.

Together, it was as if the dish had brought them to an exotic resort, all sorts of flavours impossible to find anywhere else raining down upon them. With the sound of foreign instruments raising their spirits, both Cordelia and Eric were smiling just as much as the twins. Daniel… well, not so much, but he still experienced similar bliss.

They did not care that there was no eggs or cream used; no, so great was the beautifully unique taste that eggs and normal cream seemed like they would be a detriment.

"Thank you, sir!"

"We try our best!"

"And the precocious twins Emma and Ella managed to achieve an incredible feat; a vegan alternative that tastes even better than the original! Guess we don't have an excuse anymore." Elwyn jokingly announced as the plates were removed, the judges' thoughts finalised in their heads. "Now, let's see what the next pair have to show!"

* * *

A slightly ominous scent came to the forefront of the stage, though not as heinously intense as it had been before. Whereas the pungent scent had been prominent at one of the kitchens, now it had been tempered by the seductive scent of chocolate and the sweet scent of honey.

Needless to say, many were thankful for that.

"A rusted statue polished to a shine, a failing actor made into a lead! That is what we have created!" the brunette male of the two flamboyantly declared, his hand clasped lovingly by the pink-haired girl beside him.

"With only the smallest of pushes, even the worst can become the best. A dish for those who despise durian; a magnificent cheesecake." She concluded with a gesture for the judges to eat before they two shared a romantic gaze.

"Urgh. I haven't even had the chance to eat and I already feel like I'm going to throw up." Damien muttered lowly, obviously not talking about the food. It earned him a quick elbow from Eric, the blue-haired man simply grunting while sampling the slice before him. "…Coconut biscuits and milk. How convenient."

"But used in different ways!" Cordelia interrupted with a pout. She didn't like listening to Damien's dour tone it seems. "Whereas the others used it for enhancing the flavour, this one seems to balance the flavours. The dark chocolate rings counter the flavour of the Durian, but the coconut stops the chocolate from being too overpowering!"

"Durian is a unique taste in and of itself. A strange combination of savoury, sweet, and creamy all at once. Subtle hints of chives mixed with powdered sugar. Diced garlic and caramel poured into whipped cream. With flavours that can be described like that, durian is hard to pair with as an ingredient." Eric muttered, his eyes practically alight with curiosity. "…I see! So you used honey with the durian paste to eliminate the more savoury aspects, then paired the dark chocolate to balance with bitterness! With the light coconut countering the heaviness of the chocolate, they all form a single experience by reducing each other's drawbacks."

"It is... adequate." Was all Damien had to say in the end, a stoic expression upon his face as he spoke. "You can tell this is a dish made to eliminate all the drawbacks of the ingredients used rather than emphasise the strong points. It holds good flavour while still remaining humble…Unlike the chefs."

"Damien!"

"Quiet Cordelia, it's not like they heard it!"

Though his words came out bitter, Damien, just like the other two, had been blissfully sent to a magnificent museum, the cheesecake before them the grand display. Though it had been nought but ugly material, two skilled artisans had crafted it into a design none could detract from, shining proudly as it drew attention.

"The judges seem entranced by such a wonderful dish from Brad and Priya, but is it enough to keep them in the surviving group? It all depends on what comes up next!" Elwyn cried out, the host giving a reassuring nod to the two waiting next in line.

* * *

It almost seemed as if the green-haired boy wouldn't move, frozen in his fright before he could even have a chance for his dish to be judged. Fortunately for him, the more muscular partner slapped him on the back, forcing him forward. Fortunately, the dish they made managed to land on the table unharmed, but it meant the smaller boy had to face the judges.

"U-um, we wanted to keep things simple and elegant… so we made, er… what did we call them?" the boy spoke, barely audible through the shakily held mic as he glanced to his partner. "Right, we called them poison apples! When you take a bite, you'll see why… hopefully in a good way."

"Poison apples? Sounds scary." Cordelia remarked as she took one of the blood-red fruits, gazing at it suspiciously before taking a bite.

Barely even a second passed before her face melted in delight, prompting the other two judges to quickly take their own. Eric too was quick to openly display his approval at the dessert, but Damien…

"Argh!" the blue-haired man cried as fire burnt through his throat, every breath a deadly torture to endure. Though it was soothed somewhat by the creaminess surrounding it, the rest of the dessert could only do so much to calm the raging blaze within Damien's mouth. "What on earth did you put inside these things!? And why am I the only one like this!?"

"Ah! Well, the idea behind the dish was a Russian roulette situation… most of them are perfectly normal, but one had extra chilli in it…" the green-haired boy nervously answered, flinching back from the mad glare Damien sent in his direction. "I-I'm sorry! Makoto, the chilli shouldn't have that much heat to it! What did you do!?"

"It would not be an appropriate gimmick demonstration if such a meagre amount of chilli was used. We risked the one eating to barely react compared to the others." the bulkier boy explained unrepentantly. "For personal entertainment use, I had purchased some Carolina Reaper. To ensure one was hotter than the others, I added one in."

Harry winced, as did many others watching the proceedings. After all, the Carolina Reaper was quite literally the hottest chilli pepper in the world. There was only one pepper that had ever managed to beat its world record – itself, when a new pepper managed to reach an even more insane Scoville level. To so casually include one in their dish without a single look of repentance… the boy called Makoto was a brave, brave person.

Naturally, it wasn't difficult to provide some milk and ice cream for Damien to devour, the dairy products perfect for dissolving the horrid capsaicin that was responsible for the unending heat, but they still had to take a small pause for the third chef to recover.

Surprisingly though, Damien didn't react any further. Whereas one wouldn't be wrong for assuming he would remain bitter, the man was nought but professional. As soon as the intense heat had faded adequately, Damien selected a second portion of the dish and bit into it with an astonishing amount of bravery.

"…When someone's not messing around, it's got a pleasant spice to it that works well with the chocolate ice cream." Damien muttered, his lips admittedly still somewhat red. "The apple's sweetness is complemented by the caramel surrounding, but not to a sickly level thanks to the spice."

"You can never go wrong with a proper balance of sweet and savoury," Eric added, idly twisting and turning the apple to reveal the sweet flesh surrounding an orb of chilli-infused chocolate ice cream. "Plus, the temperature of the ice cream helps those who are more sensitive to heat."

"It's a really cool idea! The caramel is perfectly smooth and tasty, the chocolate ice cream has the perfect level of spice and the apple is a perfect accompaniment rather than a mere vessel." Cordelia concluded with a resolute nod of her face.

Admittedly, few of the men were listening to her judgement. After all, with her face smudged with chocolate around her lips and cheeks full with the delightful treat, the bubbly blonde was adorable beyond words.

"Even with the troubles that came with their dish, both Koki Soseki and Makoto Korekiyo seem to have won the judges over! But is it enough to keep themselves in the race?"

* * *

Harry tuned out the others. Though their winter-inspired baked mousse cake and Japanese style tiramisu were certainly interesting creations, the black-haired boy could already tell they were the weaker pairs out of the group. It wasn't as if they were bad or anything, they were simply… normal. Normality had no place in a competition.

"And let's end this round with a bang! The final pair of this group, let's see what you've created!"

At Elwyn's declaration, Harry and Momo shared a look before small smirks appeared on their faces. The chefs weren't prepared for what they were about to taste.

"Looks pretty!" Cordelia immediately cooed as soon as the slice was cut, thick layers of white, dark brown and vibrant magenta revealed to the world. All eyes were on what could be perhaps the most beautiful looking dish on display, the judges eagerly accepting their pieces.

"A specially made berry brownie loaf. I'd give a better description, but I think it's better if you simply tasted it for yourself." Was all Harry said before the judges sank their utensils in and took their first bite.

It didn't take more than a second before each judge let out a gasp, their minds taken to a completely different world. Met with the rush of indulgent chocolate richness, they were lost for words before it faded away into the revitalising flavour of berries, cream cheese gently elevating the experience.

That was the difference between an amazing chef and a Totsuki chef. Sure, one may become incredibly skilled through diligent training and self-exploration, but the people who survive the most aggressive cooking regime were bred for battle.

"The different aspects all flow into one another. Usually, you can distinctly tell when each flavour begins and ends, yet they all become one congruent experience in this." Eric was the first to speak, his eyes practically gleaming as he looked upon the brioche trencher. A luxurious experience from start to finish indeed; despite the richness, I can't help but return for more!"

"it's weird to think that this evolved from stale bread to be used as a plate…! I don't think I could leave a scrap behind!" Cordelia cooed in turn, only just able to speak around her spoon as she brought a hand to her cheek. "So silky smooth on the tongue, it practically melts away! I guess that's what happens when you use an enriched dough with such a gooey brownie!"

"Well, it appears that I'm the only one to be impartial." Damien sighed once it was clear that his companions had no negative comments to mention. "The whole thing is needlessly luxurious and the choice of making what is essentially a brownie sandwich is quite ridiculous. You are dangerously close to overwhelming the more subtle flavours by using such a powerful main flavour, to the extent where everything surrounding the brownie may be considered unnecessary. However, you have been fortunate enough to avoid that and the subtle flavours help prevent the dish from becoming too sickly. You have been fortunate to avoid such a fate, for it surely would have spelt your failure."

Harry returned the smirk that Eric gave in their direction, while Momo gave a stiff bow with a straight face – to be expected of one raised with Japanese politeness. It was clear that they were not be leaving so soon.

"And with that, our judges have tasted every dish in the first group! I think you need me to say we've seen some strong competitors this round!" Elwyn declared, the extravagant host stood before the stage while the judges deliberated. "It really will be a shame to lose three of our teams so soon when they've made such a great show. Unfortunately, only one can reach the end and it appears that our judges have decided those who will not get the chance. Over to you!"

"Oh, looks like I got the first job this time!" Eric began jovially, dusting himself off as he rose from his seat. "Of course, I don't want to say that any of these dishes were bad, far from it! There's nary a treat on the table that we wouldn't care to dip into again. However, some simply stand out far more than others and those that failed to do so, at least to the same extent, are those that we have chosen. Our first decision… Miss Leona Everett and Miss Erica Harmon."

Harry couldn't help but feel a bit bad. The two called out seemed to have expected that result in the first place, clearly depressed, yet resigned to the decision. As one of the pairs the black boy had so easily dismissed, Harry felt as if Jenny played a part in their current state. Perhaps the arrogance of Totsuki was getting to him just a little too much.

"While your baked mousse cake was certainly a delight to consume, it simply lacked a special quality that could bring it above any other dish on the table today. While there is a beauty in simplicity and the few flavours that you have chosen work wonderfully together, it simply lacks the pizzazz expected of a competition like this."

"The next unfortunate pair made a really yummy and interesting dessert where the only issue is its lack of inspiration." Cordelia was next to announce, far more hesitant than her fellow judge. "That just goes to show how close each of the dishes was and how hard it was for us to find reasons to dismiss people. Paula Estrada, Saif Nielson. I'm sorry, but your tiramisu wasn't enough. The implementation of sake and matcha green tea helped bring a real relaxing and soothing flavour to what is normally a dessert soaked in highly caffeinated coffee. The issue was that it lacked any real wow factor; when your dish more replaces aspects rather than improves or adds to them, you need to find a way to bolster the appeal. Whereas the first pair tried to emphasise simplicity in a way that would make it stand out, this dish just feels… kind of average."

Ah, the other group that Harry dismissed. Well, even if it did feel a little awkward, at least it told Harry that his intuition was alright. On the bright side of things, the two called out seemed to take their loss a bit more jovially.

"Right then, no time to mince words. The third team out this round: Emma and Ella Chandler."

Just as expected, the final judge's words came out blunt and harsh, the two girls barely even registering their failure for a moment as they blinked owlishly. Before too long, however, it soon settled in their minds and a great combined shriek of outrage rang out in the competition area.

"What!? You're really gonna kick us out-"

"-When another team practically overdosed a judge with chilli!?" the two roared out their complaint, murmurs making their way through the crowd.

It wasn't as if their words lacked weight and the ones they specified knew that all too well. Koki was practically seconds away from dying of anxiety with the number of stares that turned onto him, the green-haired boy immediately ducking behind the sizable frame of his partner. They were fortunate that Makoto was better able to hold his stoic visage, or they would've probably dropped out under the pressure.

"Difference is, they had a theme and stuck to it, even if one was a little reluctant about it." Eric's voice interrupted and the world seemed to freeze in place.

No one in the crowd seemed willing to speak; if it weren't for the fact that such a feat would be so incredibly noticeable, Harry would've thought that a large-scale silencing charm had been cast upon them. As it was, however, the boy could only marvel, for Eric had been able to command such a presence through his voice alone. Even Dumbledore had required a certain level of magical assistance to calm the students of Hogwarts.

"Makoto Korekiyo and Koki Soseki demonstrated incredible attention to detail to achieve such a level of harmony within their flavours. If even just one factor had been a tiny bit out of flux, then the entire dish would've been thrown into chaos. Though extreme, we saw that well with the incident you so readily brought up." The older gentleman stated, his footsteps suddenly sounding thunderous in the silence. "The grace and finesse demonstrated to craft such a delicate palate are more than enough evidence for their worthiness in this competition. Compared to that…"

"Sure, it's vegan; that's all well and good, but we're looking for special dishes." Damien annoyedly interrupted, a scowl set upon his face at the older man's theatrics. "This isn't a commentary on substitutes; they have their place. To make a clearly non-vegan dish vegan though, you need to take one step back to replace all animal products. By swapping things in that are inferior in fl\vour, it takes way more to achieve the original effect, let alone an elevated one."

"It's really sad. The heart is there, really." Cordelia sighed with folded arms. "But when everyone's trying to push forward as much as they can, it's a shame that you gave yourself a dish where you start at a disadvantage."

Perhaps it was the fact that Cordelia, who had been the most empathetic of all three judges, appeared to be so ambivalent to their complaints but the girl found their arguments dying on their tongue.

With the judges certain of their decisions and their thoughts aired, the audience soon found themselves whispering among their numbers once more. Though they tried their best to keep it relatively quiet, both Emma and Ella easily heard how the whispers weren't exactly in their favour.

"It's a shame to see them go, but it's not as if they can't try again next year! Letting this kind of potential die out because of one failure is just too unbearable to think about!" Elwyn lamented before his energy returned; considering the number of times he had probably seen these sorts of scenes, it only made sense he was somewhat desensitised to it. "But hey, it just means they get to relax as we get ready for our second group to shine! After a fifteen-minute break, we'll see what group two has got!"

* * *

Harry took a deep drink as he looked for his seat.

Each contestant had been given a special seat right at the front of the action, perfect for watching and analysing their opponents while they waited for their next turn. Though he needed to weave through the people milling about, the black-haired boy felt like he was getting closer to his target, at least until he bumped into another.

"Ah, Harry, sorry. Nice show out there." The offending person apologised, Harry shaking his head to find an ashen haired boy smiling eagerly, bright energy to his form that could only belong to one person he had met in the competition. "But I guess that is to be expected with a dish like that. None of the others could ever hope to match it; it's like watching a master battling beginners."

"Caspar? Don't worry about it." Harry easily dismissed as he dusted off his shirt, the only consequence of their little collision. "And as for a master… Well, Momo might be one, but I still have a long way to go before I can call myself that. You were right you know Caspar, there was some pretty tough competition out there – I have to be careful not to let my confidence make a fool of me or I'll end up paying the price later. Thanks for warning me about that."

Harry was thought the response at least a tiny bit more positive. After all, he had been complementing Caspar, right? The sort of blank stare of confusion that the ashen boy gave him wasn't exactly what Harry had been expecting and the resulting remark only made the confusion even greater.

"… What are you talking about? Those other desserts had nothing against yours. You don't actually think there are other chefs have anything against you, do you?" Caspar asked in what seemed to be some strange fusion of disbelief and amusement. "… Oh dear, you really do. I-I didn't realise you were that insecure about your cooking. With what you said before, I had believed that you were aware of the gulf."

"Er, what?" Harry eventually answered when words returned to him. "Caspar, it's not like I don't have confidence in Momo's and my work, it's just that I was starting to get a little bit cocky, cockier than I would have liked. I'm not going to say we're not going to win the competition, I'm just saying it isn't a healthy mindset to look down on other dishes so easily without reason."

"But there is a reason? You and your partner are the only real challenge here in the entire competition! Why should you pretend that anyone else here has a chance?"

It was like talking to a brick wall for some reason. Caspar simply didn't seem to understand, it was like Harry was talking in the completely foreign language. It was why Harry was so grateful when their partners appeared; he had no clue what he was going to do if he was stuck talking to the ashen haired boy any longer.

Then again, it wasn't as if the scene he was introduced to was any less weird.

"Harry. Get her off. Now."

"I can't stop now! You're just way too cute! Aw, if only I could take you home with us, you're just so adorable!"

Admittedly, Momo was very much her normal self: face somewhat disgruntled, Bucchi held tight within her grasp and just a general sense of disdain within her figure. What wasn't so normal was the blonde-haired girl practically draped over her, all sense of normality thrown out of the window as an expression of pure joy took its place upon her visage.

"I don't know. She seems rather comfortable." Harry began, trying his best to hide his relief. "I'm guessing that you're Caspar's partner, right? I remember seeing you two sitting together when I looked up. That means you should probably be making your way down to the stage. Here, a treat for good luck."

"Oh, er, yeah, I am." The blonde awkwardly answered, a tinge of red evident on her cheeks as she coughed. Taking the offered fruit drop in hand and popping it into a mouth, she bowed her head in apology. "Sorry about that… show of mine. I'm kind of a super-fan when it comes to cute stuff, it's kind of embarrassing. My name is Ingrid by the way; if things go well, then we'll be the ones you're facing in the finals."

Harry merely jerked his head in Momo's direction, Ingrid redirecting her apology to the senior. While she would remain put off for a while, it was unlikely that Momo would reject it.

On the plus side, the change in Ingrid's excessive excitement meant that his calming drought fruit drops were a success. Initially, the potion didn't really react well to any of the additional ingredients or processes needed to create the sweets, but a fair amount of effort later and his experiments seemed to bear fruit. The one that he gave to Caspar would hopefully be just as effective.

Turning to him, Harry was glad to find that, while the pensive expression remained upon his soon to be opponent's lips, Caspar seemed less energetic. If things went as Harry expected, it would be enough to keep the ashen haired boy calm until he wouldn't care about what they had talked about; Caspar needed to focus on the food after all.

"I originally was coming here to fetch Caspar before I got… distracted. We should get out of your hair, come on Caspar." Ingrid urged, Caspar looking pensive as the girl began to walk off. He only managed to walk until he was just beside Harry however before he whispered one more thing into his ear.

"Watch us. We'll show you the difference between people like us and the rest."

Harry had no words as the pair left, watching them walk away while Momo corrected all that had been rustled by Ingrid's affections. Though he was most definitely calmer about than he had been seconds before, Harry couldn't help but feel that Caspar's flame hadn't been diminished much. Depending on how that was channelled… that could be a great or terrible thing.

"You make weird friends." Was all Momo could mutter with narrowed eyes.

Harry didn't deign it with a response. It was the truth.

* * *

Caspar and Ingrid barely paid any attention to the grandiose speech the host was giving on stage; most of it was simply enthusiastic encouragements or things of similar ilk anyway. No there were far more important things to be had, such as checking that everything was in place.

"Do you have the balloons?" Caspar whispered, Ingrid's response being to hold up the mass of colours she had already washed out ready for use. That alone had earned them more than enough strange looks, but Ingrid hadn't expected anything else when Caspar had first proposed the plan. "Great. Everything's in place then. You making the core and stems?"

"And you'll be preparing the mousse and glaze. We've been over this plan too many times to count." Ingrid quietly retorted with a small smile on her face. "Well, You wanted to show off just how badly you can beat these guys. Ready to put your money where your mouth is?"

Ingrid's questioned caused her partner to look up at the giant clock looming above them, the time limit staring down at them in menacing crimson. Caspar met it with an almost devilish smirk.

"Of course. This is one step closer to my dream."

A veritable mountain of apples was decimated in a second, Ingrid's knife barely a blur as the blonde was left with little more than perfect cubes of fruit before her. Tossed with cinnamon, vanilla and the smallest amount of pureed apple, the cubes quickly found their way onto a tray lined with rich brown upon the bottom, the sweetest scent of sugar filling the air as it all entered the oven. They alone were enough to tantalise the mind with how delicious they smelled.

While that was occurring behind him, Caspar was silent as a high heat blazed beneath a pan, milk and vanilla bubbling away. Egg yolks, sugar and cornflour entered soon after, whisked into a yellow paste that gently tinged the dairy to a pale butter colour. With time and a constant amount of stirring, the mixture steadily grew thicker under Caspar's tender care, soon ready to have gelatin soaked with additional milk added in.

Harry could appreciate the mechanical efficiency that they worked with.

Ingrid's skills with a knife were unrivalled, even when compared with quite a number of his fellow Totsuki students. While she may have lacked the near-supernatural proficiencies that many of them held, the blonde had clear potential.

As for Caspar, every movement seemed to be carefully cultivated into a masterpiece, the spatula in his hand like a paintbrush to an artist. The sheer attention and care that the ashen haired boy put into his work were to be commended a determined expression upon his face as he crafted his part of the dessert.

There was just one thing that unnerved Harry slightly about Caspar. The boy himself probably thought he w being discrete about it, but there was no hiding the way that Caspar's gaze occasionally turned up to stare directly at his seat, an eager smile upon his face as he continued to work. No, perhaps that was the wrong way to phrase it; it was a challenge unspoken, a declaration of intent that stated Caspar would outshine everyone without a second thought.

With what he and Ingrid had already made there was no reason for Harry to doubt them just yet.

Pulling out a series of frozen balloons inflated the smallest amount by some strange item within, Ingrid peered within with a satisfied nod passing them onto Caspar.

Pouring his mixture into a bottle meant that he had no hands left to accept them, setting them to the side as the creamy concoction filled the bottle. With so much air whipped into it, the bubbles were clear to see; exactly what they desired.

Ingrid had no time to pause. With the balloons being prepared, it meant she could take out the little bowl of alcohol that had been sitting next to them. Ice crystals, yet not completely frozen – the sign that it was perfect for Ingrid to pipe small rivers of chocolate into. With its liquid state even in such a freezing temperature, it meant that the chocolate could flash freeze while suspended for a perfectly rounded form, unlike a frozen tray that would have one side flat and ugly.

Sugar, water, apple cider and condensed milk found itself within a bowl put upon a water bath to gently heat and dissolve until it became one congruent form, dissolved gelatin added to help give it some body. Along with some white chocolate and stirring, it would make for a magnificent glaze.

Slowly but surely, their dish was starting to emerge and it was only the freezing time that prevented them from being finished in half of the time they needed, if that. Most of their time was spent either checking everything going on in Ingrid's case or simply lazing about in Caspar's. understandably, the looks he gave his competitors didn't exactly help earn him any points.

"…Some interesting choices." Momo muttered, peeking over Bucchi's head momentarily before settling down in her seat. "Nothing too interesting though."

"I don't know. I mean, those…. doughnut things look cool." Harry muttered, leaning forward slightly to glimpse the frying dough. The process was far from the typical manner, however; it was probably because they were no doughnuts at all, but pancakes by the name of Malpua. "And somehow, I feel that whatever those two are cooking up is going to be… let's say interesting."

And so the timer ticked down, some spending the time rather casually while others fretted the whole way through. It was the second round after all; while there was the pressure of being the initial reaction for the first contestants, the second had to deal with judges who already had the bar set.

All too soon however the ominous chimes of the clock began to ring out – it was time for the judgements to begin. Just as the first time a varied plethora of desserts sat ready to face the judges, the pairs that made them stood in a combination of excitement and trepidation.

"Time's up! We've seen some beautiful confectionary folks and from what I'm looking at, there are plenty of contenders lined up for us!" came the exaggerated excitement of Elwyn. "That's the worst part of this job. I get to see so many great dishes and never actually get to taste any of it… Um, anyway, it's time for our first pair to step up to the plate! How will the judges react?"

And of course the first would be Ingrid and Caspar. The ashen haired boy led the way with practically oozing of confidence, not exactly placing him in the best of lights before the judges while Ingrid could only follow after apologetically.

After Caspar's words, Harry couldn't help but shuffle forward in his seat, anxious to see the creation they would present. All of their work had been carefully calculated and meticulous and several wonderful products had been made to form their final dish. The judges were all too aware of that and a silent sense of curiosity floated around their table as the plates were presented.

When they were presented with nought but three apples, their disappointment could not be put into words.


	12. The Hunter's Hallway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of shopping and sleepiness.

"… Care to explain?"

It was only natural that Damien was the one to speak out of the confused judges. While the blue-haired man spoke between gritted teeth, Cordelia was left blinking owlishly at the apple placed before her, Eric merely contenting himself with a curious glare towards Caspar.

Not that it seemed to affect the ashen haired boy. No, very much the opposite; with a smile on his face, Caspar stepped up to the plate quite literally and began to explain with a devilish smirk.

"Now, now. There's no need to be hasty with your judgements. After all… Appearances can be deceiving." Caspar said, his free hand gesturing towards the knives laid bare before the judges. "I think you'll be surprised by what you'll find."

"Well, it's not as if there's any reason not to." Answered Cordelia as she reached for her cutlery, all eyes glued upon her as she tentatively took her blade to the fruit sat waiting.

Apples are a rather varied fruit. Ranging from incredibly tart and sharp to the sweetest delights, from vivid greens to the deepest of crimsons, you could achieve a wide variety of flavours and textures simply by altering which apple you chose. In a land so heavily influenced by English cooking, where apples were neared deified by their ease of growth and versatility, apples of all varieties could be found and used in a near exponential amount of techniques.

The apple that Caspar had provided was nothing like those.

A knife wasn't even necessary, for even a gentle tap of the spoon would have been able to break through the glorious shining exterior. No crunch was heard, nor was any resistance to be found; as Cordelia revealed the luscious mousse held within and exposed the core, each of the judges felt their breath taken away.

"As I'm sure you can see, what you have before you is a glazed mousse surrounding a core of roasted apple – an apple of apples if you will." Caspar introduced. There was very much a confident smile plastered on his lips; Harry didn't even need to see his face to know that much. "Cooking is an art, is it not? The best food is both exquisite to the eyes and the tongue."

"… I see. It certainly explains the balloons I saw upon your table." Eric muttered with the smallest of smirks just visible. "By crafting each element and placing them within balloons, you can freeze them in the shape that you could replicate an apple with. An interesting approach, but not one could achieve such realistic results – you painted them by hand, didn't you?"

"I always preferred cooking over painting, but it doesn't mean it can't come in handy sometimes." Came the crafty answer. "Luckily for me, I could get the glaze to be a perfect colour to finish the illusion."

"That glaze, you put apple cider in! The vanilla in the mousse really makes the sweetness stand out!" Cordelia squealed, or would have if she weren't too busy shoving yet another bite into her mouth; with the speed that the judge was going out, it was a miracle that her portion of the desert was still recognisable. "And that core is apples roasted in caramel, you get the slightest hint of cinnamon as well. It's like you made an apple greater than an apple!"

"Apples roasted in caramel placed within a mousse and surrounded with a sweet glaze and a stem made out of chocolate. You could have made one of the most sickly things on earth. Luckily, you managed to avoid that with your choice of apple and a simple mousse." Continued Damien, his praise pointedly more reluctant from the tone of his voice. "I looked at it and saw a visual gimmick, something that cared more about its appearance than its taste. I guess you managed to find a surprising balance between them."

As reluctant as his words were, however, Damien, just like both his companions, found themselves transported into a near fantastical forest. No matter how much he tried to deny it as mere aesthetic appeal, the sweet fragrance of freshly grown apples surrounded them, practically begging to be consumed as they shone under the sun's light.

With every bite, what had once appeared as but a simple fruit now flooded the mouth with a refreshing balance of both tart and sweet - one that had any who ate it eager for more. The very best an apple could give had been concentrated and given form in the dessert upon the plate.

Caspar raised his hand, Ingrid first giving a well-natured sigh before she returned the high-five.

Harry was just as impressed. The dishes he and Momo made had a visual flair, there was for certain, but it was hardly on the same level as what he just witnessed. In fact, even in Totsuki, it was rare to find someone who could create a dish that replicated something so realistically. Despite having watched the entire process unfold before him, there had been none in the audience that had initially believed there hadn't been three apples presented to the judges. Add that to the fact it was just a genuinely great dessert and it was clear that Caspar and Ingrid were on the same level as Harry at least.

"And it's only the first round… If this is what they pull out at the start, I can't wait to see what they've got for the later rounds." The black-haired boy muttered to himself with a small chuckle. "If this is how they want to set the bar, I hope they realise we are going to fly way higher!"

* * *

"A trio of hexafoils upon an abandoned alleyway's gate… Not the most inviting of entrances, but the backend of the Leaky Cauldron isn't exactly the best either." Harry muttered as he approached the broken-down building, an oddity compared to the modernised stores that sat on either side.

Except to Harry, it was far from the beaten old track that was taped off from all others. Sure, it may have seemed as such from far away, but the moment that the black-haired boy had approached, the veil had been lifted.

Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that the many wards designed to fend off the muggles recognised him as one of their own and allowed Harry to see the near medieval entrance before him. Apparently, the magical communities of Australia weren't all that different to that of Britain; logical if a bit disappointing.

Either way, it mattered little; it was one of the few times Harry would get to see the local apothecaries and potion supply shops, both to restock his supplies and potentially find some hidden gems. There was no time to waste, especially if Harry didn't want to annoy Momo – he promised her he would be relatively quick after all.

The moment that Harry stepped through the gateway and followed the paths that should've run through people's homes from the way they twisted and turned, one fact was made immediately clear – Hunter's Hallway was massive. Diagon Alley wasn't the smallest of places, but with how tightly everything was packed together, the name was somewhat reasonable. Hunter's Hallway? It stretched on for what seemed like miles, immeasurable numbers of shops on both sides.

Suddenly, it seemed as if his trip would take far longer than he realised.

"You looking for something specific? That's the gaze of somebody who has no idea where they're going." A man nearby chuckled, rather interestingly clad in what could only be described as a hideous suit ripped from a paint factory explosion.

It couldn't have been more clear – this was a wizard trying his absolute best to… Blend in with the muggles. Considering the kind of fashion monstrosities Harry had heard about through letters when the Quidditch World Cup came to Britain, it seemed as if the entire wizarding world was reading from the same muggle history books. Perhaps this time, the man had seen an episode of Dr Who and considered it an example of muggle fashion; it would certainly explain the interesting colour choice.

"Trying to make my way to the apothecary. Didn't expect there to be so much to look at." Harry tried his best to answer, finding himself suddenly yelling to be heard. There weren't more shops for no reason, Hunter's Hallway attracted a crowd that made the larger area just as densely packed as Diagon Alley.

"Lucky for you, I know just the way. Maybe we can avoid some of the crowd while we're at it – follow me!"

Perhaps in any other situation, Harry would be a little more hesitant to follow so easily. After all, this was a stranger in a foreign country in a very densely crowded area – one person going missing for nefarious reasons was not going to be noticed. There was just something to his mannerisms, something childish and friendly, that had Harry secretly believing that such thoughts didn't even pass through the man's mind. Besides, unlike Diagon and Knockturn, there wasn't such an easy 'safe zone' for the more unsavoury to flee to.

He wanted to say it was difficult to follow the man with so many people buzzing about, but Harry really couldn't. Compared to all the dark cloaks and robes that the wizards and witches chose to wear, Harry's guide stood out like a sore thumb. Honestly, he was expecting there to be a few more strange looks, at least from muggleborns and halfbloods raised in mundane society, but it seemed that such a sight was considered relatively normal.

So long as he kept his head down, Harry realised with growing disbelief, they would go relatively unnoticed.

"Now tell me, where you from? You don't get an accent like that from just staying in one place." The man called out behind him, Harry trying his best to push just a little bit closer so they could have an actual conversation. "You're from England, right? But there's a tinge of something else in there, can't quite tell."

"Born and raised in England, but I've spent the last couple of years travelling around now. Open a guidebook, see what excites me, book the easiest transportation. Only recently decided to settle down for a bit." Harry explained his best he could. No lies in there, just some vague declarations. "Can't complain. I've seen and done more things than I ever could have dreamt of doing before."

"Travelling? What, with your family or something? You seem a little young." The man remarked, pausing a moment to pass his eyes over Harry's body. "Would have expected someone of your age to still be in school. How old are you then – 14? 15?"

"15, and I'm travelling alone. It's… Kind of complicated." The black-haired boy tried to gloss over as best he could. It didn't seem to work, not going from the strange gaze the Australian man gave him, but it seemed his guide had the courtesy to push no further. "For now, I've managed to get into a pretty respectable school. So long as nothing goes wrong, gonna stick around and see life takes me."

"Oh yeah? Well, if that's what you think is good for you, a stranger ain't gonna persuade you otherwise." Replied the man, his tone changed somewhat in a manner that Harry couldn't pin down. "So what then? Any plans for the future? Save for travelling of course. When I was your age, I wanted to be everything; you're reaching the point where you have to make a decision."

"Well… I've just been trying my best to survive and live a good life, a life I wouldn't have gotten if I just stayed at home. It's kind of hard to think about the future when you don't even know what tomorrow brings." Harry eventually said after a brief pause. "Right now, it's really just been seeing if I could get to the end of the school year and like it enough to get to the second."

"Ah, I see. You really should think about it, you know? A life without a goal is kind of pointless. A goal gives you a reason to live, a direction that will set you up for the rest of your days." The man spoke, hits words eerily between concern and something else before his visage suddenly brightened. "Here it is, Gretel's! You need anything, Gretel has it and more!"

"Th-thank you, sir," Harry said as he approached the door, the man giving a cheeky smile as he turned to leave. "By the way, the name's Harry. I don't think you gave me yours?"

"…Daniel, Daniel Fortescue. Sorry, but I don't expect to meet you again – a bit of a traveller myself." Then before Harry knew it, the brightly dressed man was gone.

The black-haired boy paused at the doorway, repeating the name silently; it was a familiar one, a very familiar one that was just on the tip of his tongue. Once it was clear that someone else intended to enter the apothecary and Harry was blocking the door however, he let the thought drop. He'd already wasted enough time and there was no need to make Momo more upset.

* * *

"… You're right, Yodo. There's a spark to that kid, one that can take him far in our kind of business. Don't know why you of all people decide to take an interest in a kid though."

"… You still talk to him? I thought you and he didn't talk for years, why is he deciding to get friendly now?"

"… Yeah, turns out he never really had a plan. I tried to push him in the right direction, we just have to see where that turns up. Seems like the kind of person to shake up the system though. Might have to poach him when the time comes."

"Don't know if your little scheme is gonna produce fruit, but I damn well want to hear the results. You've got me involved now, don't go around expecting to keep me out of the loop. Something tells me this isn't going to go the way your little friend planned; that's exactly why you're following through, isn't it?"

* * *

"You're late."

Harry may have had a smile on his face, but inwardly, he cursed. He may have been fast, but that didn't mean he was fast enough. Fortunately, it wasn't too difficult to remove the pout from his senior's face.

"Yeah, I know, sorry. At least I managed to get you a gift." Harry quickly answered, his hands busy rummaging through his bag until he found his target. "Here we go! Fresh as you can get it!"

"…sherbet?" Momo muttered as she beheld the most beautiful pastel yellow you could imagine, the chill of the bowl entering her fingers in a not entirely unpleasant way. Anyone else would've immediately dug in; it was only the fact that Harry quickly interjected that prevented Momo from doing the same.

"Homemade, naturally. Figured if I was going to get some ingredients, might as well put some to good use. Consider it a celebration." Harry explained, reaching in once more and continuing to withdraw some small glasses and a rather strange looking bottle. "Here, have some of this first. If I've done this right, then they should go well together."

Momo wasn't entirely sure. The liquid poured out of the bottle had a strange amber tone, almost the same colour one would expect of a fossil. Certainly not the colour of your typical drinks. Besides, who had a special drink to have alongside sherbet?

And yet, she did not hesitate to accept Harry's offering. Sure, there were times where his culinary choices seemed a bit esoteric, but they rarely ever tasted foul. The mere fact that he was allowed to be part of the Confectionary RS was a sign of Harry's skill. As his senior, it was her duty to test his works and show him how to improve.

Therefore, without a single second of hesitation, a shot of the mysterious drink fell down Momo's throat.

Warmth. A heat that permeated Momo's body and made her cheeks a healthy red. She could feel a gentle bitterness playing at the back of her throat, one that had her almost believing it was alcohol had it not been for the illegality of such a thing.

That bitter flavour wasn't something considered pleasant by everyone. For a chef, however, it was an interesting aspect to play with though; bitterness, while not the nicest on its own, could do an excellent job in cutting through certain flavours. Should a particular taste grow too dominant, a slight amount of bitterness worked wonders in providing balance.

And what an excellent balance it provided when paired with the sherbet. The warmth that the drink gave was perfectly balanced by the cooling sensation of the sherbet and the bitterness that had remained in Momo's mouth was mellowed delightfully by the sugary dessert. The harmony between the two aspects allowed the lemon within the sherbet to shine brighter.

Harry couldn't help it; the sigh of relief slipped through his lips before he realised it. For someone who made desserts so often, Momo was surprisingly susceptible to them. If Harry worked with desserts and desserts alone, he knew he would be craving something savoury – variety was the spice of life after all.

"So, what do you think then? Good enough to excuse my lateness?" Harry prompted with a grin, a moment of irritation threatening to appear on Momo's face before it melted into something just a bit more embarrassed.

"…It's nice."

"Thank goodness. I felt like that could've gone a lot worse than it did." Harry sighed in relief, snatching away the smallest amount of sherbet and moving behind Momo. Luckily for him, it meant that his senior couldn't see Harry's immediate face of disgust.

It was the most hideously sour think you could imagine, to the point where it was hard to call it a foodstuff at all. Not that it was unintentional or anything. After all, Harry had paid careful attention to the most unnecessary amount of lemon and additional citric acid he added to the sherbet. Had the dessert failed to achieve such a horrific level of sourness, then there was no point to the experiment at all.

Harry _did_ say that he had gone out for ingredients; if Momo never knew what sort of ingredients or what they were intended for, Harry couldn't be blamed. Honestly, even if Momo had been told what went in, she would have believed the boy for a second.

The ingredients for the taste alteration potion weren't exactly common, you see. Not only were they restricted to certain harsh environments, but some of the flora required only grew in small numbers. If it weren't for how easy the potion itself was to brew and how little was required to have a significant effect, many potion brewers would find little reward for how difficult the ingredients were to source.

Usually, you would have to go to a continent like Africa if he wanted easy access to those ingredients. Not only did they flourish in greater number there, but there was also a far greater number of brewers who specialised in the potion. Africa, as one would expect, was an unforgiving land when it came to growing crops and it was far easier to grow more sour foods. Anything that could make such foods more palatable was bound to become popular among the remote magical communities, similarly to how the non-magical communities utilised the miracle berry.

Luckily for Harry, when that man – Daniel, if he remembered correctly - said that Gretel had anything, it hadn't been a lie. Potion ingredients that would have made Snape salivate were displayed as if they were common finds and for prices that matched. Harry would have been an idiot to not take advantage of such a situation and in his excitement, couldn't help but put some of his findings to the test immediately. Hence why Harry had made sure that Momo partook in the drink first.

In actuality, it too was a concoction most foul. While the two versions of the taste alteration potion added were flavourless, the near-deadly amount of chilli Harry added was enough to cause even the bravest of souls to cower at the spice. The only partially palatable addition was lemon peel, zested in to accompany the lemon within the sherbet and provide the smallest hint of bitterness.

However, with one version of the taste alteration potion changing sour to sweet and the other reducing spice to little more than a comfortable warmth, both dishes were far more palatable and delectable than the ingredients would imply. Yes, from the way that Momo was reacting, Harry's experiment had been a resounding success.

It was why the black-haired boy had a smile on his face as he spoke, taking his place next to Momo and sinking into the comfort of her bed.

"… Momo. Do you have any idea what you want to do?"

The question caused the purple-haired girl to pause, the spoon slowly placed within her bowl as she set it aside.

"Weird question. We'll win the competition." Was all she had to say as her eyes narrowed. Harry merely shook his head, placing his hands beneath him while he stared up to the elegant ceiling of the hotel room.

"No, that's not what I mean." corrected Harry. "I mean after all of this, after Totsuki even. I figured you would have thought about what you want to do after graduating, considering your part of the Elite Ten and in your third year."

Momo didn't immediately have an answer; Harry didn't expect her to, not when people could come out with years more time to think and still come up short. While Totsuki naturally aimed their students towards a culinary career, the world is a large place and cuisine is treasured in many parts of it. The options, while initially appearing more restricted, were still incredible in number. With a Totsuki education, any restaurant in the know would be begging her to join them.

That wasn't even going into Momo's other skills. Nothing was stopping her from venturing into the world of toy design, what with her particular eye for undiscovered trends. Add that into the equation and it only made the future seem even more uncertain.

"… Probably run my own bakery." The purple-haired third year eventually replied, though Harry noted the relative lack of confidence in those words.

It wasn't as if it were a foreign concept. Many of Totsuki's graduates went on to produce their own businesses, typically to great success. Why work under someone else's name when the food you made was miles better than anything they could produce? Why work with chefs who will grow jealous or envious of how grand your creations are compared to theirs? No, it was far easier to work on their terms and shine as individuals.

"Why?"

"Just wondering. Before I know it, I'm going to have to make a choice as well." Harry absently explained, though not well enough if Momo's face meant anything. "I was maybe thinking about doing something similar, but… I don't know. I feel like if we're going to be called the best of the best in the world of cooking, we should be doing something greater than just opening a restaurant and settling down."

Thanks to Fortesque's words, guilt now pervaded Harry's mind. His reason for entering the competition (well, for _Momo_ entering both herself and him into the competition) was a mere formality. It wasn't as if they believed the competition would challenge them, nor was it because they believe the competition would help them improve. It was simply a necessity if they want to keep the Confectionary RS continuing.

Even then, that wasn't exactly a major issue. The Confectionary RS consisted of exactly two people; it was merely a chance for Momo to get some additional funding from the higher-ups, with Harry only entering because of special circumstances. In reality, the RS shouldn't have existed with such a low membership, but nobody wanted to question the Elite Ten's third seat. Nothing was stopping them from simply meeting and baking outside of a research society.

It all seemed kind of… Pointless, at least compared to everyone else who was competing. People like Casper were giving their all to win this competition and prove themselves in ways that neither Totsuki students needed to, probably with far better reasons than Momo or Harry. Perhaps their dreams relied upon their victory or maybe victory was what they desired most in the first place. In fact, entire careers could be built off victories in competitions like this. Were they in the right to cut down the competition so easily when their reasons for entering seemed so pathetic?

Harry had hoped that brewing and cooking would take his mind off the issue, but it helped little. Unlike Momo, who at least had somewhat of an inkling of what she wanted to do when she entered Totsuki, Harry had entered on somewhat of a whim. It was a place far away from home and the restrictions that came with it and therefore, something that excited him. No more, no less.

Now, here he was. Trying to figure out what he wanted to do with life.

It wasn't as if he was going to fail the competition, not on purpose. After all, it would reflect badly on both him and Momo and with Momo's position in the Elite Ten, Harry didn't want to chance any troubles back at Totsuki. Plus, he was human after all; Harry wasn't going to pretend that he didn't like the feeling of victory.

He simply couldn't block the intrusive thoughts that demanded a better reason for what Harry was doing. That he wasn't just stopping other people achieving their goals simply because he was bored. That there was something to look forward to rather than just living in the moment. Something that could make Harry's existence means something in an at least somewhat significant way.

"Ah, I don't want to think about it anymore. Momo, distract me." Harry muttered, his words half-muffled as he rolled over and shoved his face into the bed. The action drew a small roll of the eyes from his senior, Momo merely continuing to eat.

"…Nothing to do. Can't plan for the next round." The purple-haired girl retorted. "Have to wait to see ingredients."

…Heh. A round where you had to make stuff up on the spot? Where you had to go with your gut instinct and hope for the best? What better way was there to cook? After all, recipes and cookbooks were guides, not Bibles. Once you had an understanding of the basics and whatever techniques you needed, a good chef could take anything and create something magical with it. Living life as it comes; there was at least something Harry knew he did well.

"Fair enough, so long as they have a decent enough market. England's market culture is kind of getting killed by modernisation." Harry said with a stretch. "Hope the same isn't happening here."

It was a shame, and something one couldn't do much about. Markets were an excellent way to interact with the community and perfect for making sure you know where your food is from. Some were near ancient, pieces of living history still doing business and offering honest, great produce.

But massive supermarkets and global brands had far more sway over the public. Whether it be through the sheer number of shops they were able to acquire, the billions they managed to spend through advertising or the variety of different items they were able to stock in a single place, there were plenty of positives to be had with a corporation. The deals they were able to advertise so often and to so many people meant that market stalls were struggling to keep fighting.

Such a worry came as somewhat of a surprise to Momo. Asia, where tradition and history still held a very important influence over the people, was fortunate enough to still have markets that were thriving. Compared to the gradually shrinking markets of the Western world, Asian markets could stretch as far as the eye could see, every single store buzzing with life and passion and filled to the brim with people of all ages. The thought of a market being anything less than a chef's paradise could be, quite literally, a foreign concept.

Eh, it was probably nothing to worry about. They wouldn't have made it an integral part of the competition if there wasn't something to show. Is probably all sorts of unique and interesting ingredients to find, at least in Harry's mind. As a good market, there always was. How much of it would be useful for baking or creating confectionary was another thing, but that was something to worry about when the time came.

"…Ah, screw it, my brain hurts. Momo, do you mind if I take a nap in your bed…?" Harry began with a small yawn. He didn't get an answer; there wasn't any time for Momo to answer, for the moment that the black-haired boy finished his question, he had already been taken into sleeps sweet embrace.

It meant that he didn't hear the gentle knocking at the door, leaving Momo to stand up, wipe her mouth of any remaining ice cream and greet the visitor. Well, it could be said that she greeted the visitor, if you considered silently staring with narrowed eyes towards the woman waiting outside to be a proper greeting. Luckily, it did little to change the visitor's behaviour considering how naturally awkward she normally was.

" Um… Hello. Figured it would be nice to say hi after your first round. It seemed like the judges really liked your dish." Chloe awkwardly remarked, scuffing her foot against the ground as she looked to the trolley held behind her. "I, er, also bought some food for you two – you know, a kind of reward for doing all right. I mean, it _is_ a dish I prepared incorrectly and couldn't serve the customers… But it's all right to eat! So… is Harry about?"

Momo didn't have any initial reaction, visage frozen in a frosty glare that made Chloe's fidgeting all the worse. The purple-haired girl didn't have any emotional investment in the brunette and what little Momo had seen of the hotel chef hadn't endeared Chloe to her. It could be said that Chloe was Harry's acquaintance, but with Harry asleep, Momo was the one who would have to interact with her. She made such a sentiment clear eventually with her following words."

"Harry's sleeping."

"Oh, I see. Still, it's not as if I have anything else to do this food… Do you want to try to anyway?" Chloe insisted and, with a roll of her eyes, Momo realised the brunette would not be so easily dismissed. Well, it wasn't as if the food she had made before had been _bad_ per se…

"…Fine. Come in."

And with so reluctant an invitation, Chloe stepped into the room, dragging her trolley behind her while Momo sat once more upon the bed. How Harry remained so undisturbed in his sleep, Momo wasn't too sure, but she didn't care enough to ask any questions. All she cared about was getting the brunette out of the room as quickly as possible.

Admittedly, that irritation did abate slightly when Chloe lifted the lid on her dishes, allowing a most wonderful scent to fill the hotel room. The savoury smell of fried kimchi and rich dark meat quickly pervaded every corner, tempered by the subtle sweetness of what could only be sweetened egg. It was expert cooking and as the dish was brought into Momo's sight, it was clear that the presentation was just as precise.

Standing like a magnificent castle was a swirling vortex of egg upon what could only be a dome of fried rice, surrounded by a moat of stewed meat and vegetables. The juxtaposition between the bright golden egg and the earthen colour of the stew made the whole thing pop under the light; for such a dish to still be considered a failure, Momo wasn't sure whether it was a testament to how strict the head chef was or how self-depreciative Chloe was.

"I was trying to make an omelette rice, but I messed up the omelette forming in the end and just ended up making this twisted sheet of egg," Chloe muttered, poking her fingers together with such a deep aura of depression that Momo had to step back slightly. "Everything else seemed to be alright, the stew, the kimchi fried rice beneath it… but if the presentation doesn't match up to the food, then there's no point sending it out, is there? Or at least, that's what Nikolas said to me."

"…Sounds wasteful to Momo." The purple-haired girl commented with no small combination of disdain and disbelief, accepting the chopsticks offered to her and carefully breaking through the vortex of egg to reveal the treasure hidden beneath. "Looks like tornado omelette rice. Korean street food. Difficult to make… yet you made it by mistake."

The scent of kimchi grew more prevalent as Momo released the rice, the stew quickly moving in to combine the flavours into one special bite. Bringing it to her mouth, the purple-haired girl let out a small hum, only for her eyes to widen briefly.

There was a reason why tornado omelette rice was also known as magma fried rice. With the addition of kimchi and some sort of chilli into the rice, a wave of comforting heat passed through Momo's body, the tingle down her spine causing the girl to shiver slightly. The meaty sauce surrounding provided a sumptuous sensation that made each bite so moreish, while the sweetened egg added an airy element that provided the perfect textural contrast. It was plain to see in those few bites alone how such a dish could become beloved by the people of Asia.

"…Delicious." Muttered Momo, bringing a small smile and a new light to Chloe.

"It is, isn't it? I still can't believe Nikolas wouldn't let me serve it, but I suppose it's not what's advertised on the menu." The brunette sighed, tilting her head slightly before a quick slap to her cheeks brought Chloe back to normal. "Still, even if it looks ugly, it's still perfectly good food, so it's your reward for your success. That's not the only thing I came to talk to you about though."

"Hm?"

"Yeah, I heard you had a little encounter with a kind of pushy boy, right?" Chloe's question brought a scowl to Momo's face, the stark transformation from her relatively relaxed posture making Chloe blink momentarily.

"Caspar. Annoying. Boastful, but… not without reason." The purple-haired girl explained, only allowing the smallest portion of her annoyance to soak through into her words. Unfortunately, even a small portion of her annoyance meant that a dark aura had gathered around the small girl, Chloe letting a bead of sweat roll down her forehead.

"I suppose I know what you mean. Caspar means well, but he always does come off as a little heavy-handed." Chloe said, resting her head against her hand. "I should've known he would've caused you trouble the moment he met you. I'm sorry I didn't try to do anything more to rein him in. I thought that Ingrid would be more than enough…"

"You know Caspar?" Momo asked, bringing forth an awkward chuckle from Chloe as she straightened up once more.

"Yes, I know him well. I have to, considering he's my brother."


	13. The market experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On markets and magic.

"…We can work with this." Harry mused as they stepped out into the warmth of Australian sunshine, only the shade of their sunglasses and hats protecting them from the intense heat. Though Momo might've thought otherwise, Harry wasn't too bothered by the sun, not with the beautiful view before him.

Some of the best produce one could ever dream of was sitting proudly upon stall after stall. From the most vibrant fruits and vegetables, to the freshest meat, to the most enticing spices; everything a chef could ever desire was all held in one place. The most alluring scent you could imagine permeated the air, several different food trucks eagerly ploughing through the lunch rush with practised ease. It was a shame that they wouldn't have the opportunity to stop by and sample some of the wares.

Being limited to only desserts was somewhat of a blessing, faced with such a well-stocked market. If they had to choose what to make without restrictions, Harry didn't know how he would make a choice. Even with the restriction, several ideas were already buzzing around his head and they hadn't even started looking around. Momo was probably no better, even if her face was a little more schooled in comparison to her junior.

"Okay folks, listen closely!" Elwyn's voice called out, the first batch of contestants all gathering round as the MC eagerly rubbed his hands together. "We're giving you guys half an hour and twenty pounds to make your way around this market! Do what you want with the time; find inspiration from some of the bakers, chat with the food trucks, do nothing and have lunch with the money if you want! Just know that when time's up, you're going to have 2 and a half hours to make whatever you can with whatever you buy."

It wasn't anything they didn't know before, but the MC's chatter certainly helped build up the anticipation. Keeping chefs from a marker, it was like holding a child just in front of a sweet store – pure torture. A glance to the side showed Harry and Momo's competitors nervously fidgeting in place. How many were fidgeting out of nerves and how many were fidgeting out of anticipation, the black-haired boy couldn't be certain. Not that he had much time to guess, Elwyn's smile growing as he threw his arms wide.

"Well, don't let me keep you guys waiting! If everyone's ready, then in three, two, one…! Get moving!"

While everyone else started rushing around to try and find the best deals, Momo was a bit more measured. Though she never said a word, Harry dutifully followed behind the purple-haired girl. Though there were so many ideas he wanted to explore just like everyone else, he would be an idiot to ignore the insights of who he was working with. You didn't become famous in the most competitive cooking academy without being one of the most innovative after all.

"Meyer lemons…" Momo muttered as she reached down, grasping one of the citrus fruits with a critical eye.

She didn't even need to read the sign to differentiate them. Compared to their more regular counterparts, the darker skin, more rounded shape and smoother texture were distinctive. Not only that, but their flavour as well differed in one crucial aspect, an aspect that made them perfect for the competition. "These are usually found in December to March… Excuse me, can we taste one of these?"

Any other lemon and the suggestion would've been questionable. After all, whoever wanted to eat a lemon by itself? The acidic sourness was simply too intense for people to enjoy, not unless it was balanced by other flavours. There was a reason why the seasoning triangle – the triangle of acid, sugar and salt – existed. Yet the stall owner didn't hesitate in cutting one open, slicing through the rich golden flesh and handing two pieces to the teens, nor did Harry hesitate in putting it in his mouth.

The reason was why the black-haired boy felt a smile appearing on his face rather than a grimace, Momo… well, her face changed little, but her expression hadn't become worse. Rather than be met by a huge wave of citric acid, the effect was much milder, tempered by a greater sweetness than one would expect. Instead of a lightning storm that delivered sudden shocks of foul flavour to the unprepared, it was more comparable to a shower on a hot day. While there were many similarities between the profiles of Meyer and regular lemons, the Meyer lemons delivered their flavours in a far more refreshing and welcoming manner.

By exchanging acidity for greater sweetness, the Meyer lemon was not only easier to eat on its own, but exponentially more useful for sweet-based cookery, despite the more spicy aroma of the Meyer lemons. If they wanted to include citrus in their desserts, then there was no better lemon you could find and with the money they had been given, they would be able to purchase more than enough for their potential dish.

"Flavours that work well with lemon, but don't need to work off the acid as much… I've seen some nice berries over there." Harry prompted, his head nodding towards another stall decorated in all kinds of different colours.

While it lacked the same eclectic offerings as the first stall, the produce displayed wasn't lacking in quality at all. With a greater focus on berries (including bananas – most likely to confuse the less educated), there were plenty of options for flavours that could work with lemon, a low hum escaping the black-haired boy before he reached out to one particular berry.

"Call it my British heritage, but I kind of want to do something with some strawberries. Maybe raspberries as well?" Harry questioned aloud as he bounced a punnet in his hand. Every piece was as vibrant as the mind could imagine, full figures and healthy coloured leaves decorating the top – perfect, in other words. One didn't need to have a bite to know how delightful their flavour would be, and the raspberries Harry inspected later were specimens just as fine. "Maybe something along the lines of an Eton Mess?"

Ah, the Eton Mess. While Harry preferred desserts that could be a little richer and more indulgent, the light airiness of an Eton mess was not to be underestimated. A deceptively simple creation composed of berries combined with cream and meringue, it is immediately understandable how such a treat became beloved by the students of Eton College. Just the thought alone was making Harry salivate, his mind casting itself back to the few meals in Hogwarts where such a treat had been made available. It had taken Hermione's urgings before he turned away from his favourite treacle tart to the Eton Mess, but he never regretted taking a portion.

"Nice, but too simple. Other lost because of it." Momo eventually dismissed after a second, a small pout coming to Harry's face. He had forgotten about that. "Need to think fancy. Something extravagant made from something simple."

"…Then why don't we make a fancier Eton Mess?" Harry's question drew an elongated sigh and a roll of the eyes from Momo, but Harry quickly threw his hand out before she could walk any further. The pout on his lips had been already replaced intense concentration setting in as the plan played out in his mind. "Get rid of the mess part – arrange the meringue, berries and cream to be more beautiful. We don't even have the break the meringue; we can use the meringues to contain the other aspects. We could lace the flavours through the meringue, tinge it pink and yellow."

"Meringue bombs. That's what you're suggesting right?" Momo interrupted, but not through irritation. A pensive expression graced the third year's lips. Though similarly simple in their construction, there was a definite increase in style compared to an Eton Mess. It wasn't only limited to appearance either; a meringue bomb would allow any improvements made to the meringue to stand out more proudly and Harry's improvements had merit to them. "…Replace cream with Greek yoghurt. Add thyme to accent the berries. Lace lemon curd through the filling. Candied lemon?"

"No reason why not. Got to be careful with the Meyer lemons, but it shouldn't be too overpowering." Harry answered with a shrug, Momo's eyes falling shut as the final calculations passed before her eyes. "Can't tell if that's a yes or a no. Maybe? Work with it for now?"

"Work with it for now. If a better idea comes, we'll change." Momo confirmed. They hadn't spent much of their budget after all, and the other ingredients they would need for their current plans weren't all that expensive. If a different plan came into action, they should have adequate leeway.

In fact, rather than the tense search for inspiration and the best produce, the half-hour they had been given was no different from the time they spent in the Confectionary RS. No stress, but a constant learning experience for Harry, where he would create ideas and watch as his senior made them several grades better. Sometimes, they would be major differences, but most changes were simply logical improvements that seemed so obvious once they were pointed out. Either way, it was a pleasurable experience, hardly anything to be concerned about.

The same couldn't be said for the competition. Stood beside a baker's stall and happily nibbling away on biscuits (rabbit-shaped, at Momo's 'gentle' insistence), they watched as pairs flitted between the various offers. Cries of wasted expenses, indecisive arguments and bitter scolding reached their ears and quite frankly, Momo found the whole thing ridiculous.

"Come on, don't be like that," Harry muttered with a small elbow nudging the purple-haired girl. "Some people are just a little bit less creative than others. Give them time, they'll sort things out. Between the crying, you can hear some good ideas… Momo? You okay?"

But the girl didn't answer, too busy staring off into the distance and ever so occasionally bringing the biscuit in her hands to her mouth. Momo wasn't even eating the biscuit anymore, her hands never reaching far enough for her to actually bite the snack. It was only when Harry began to poke her in the shoulder when Momo finally showed a response, giving a small hum rather than the typical angered glare.

"What's up? Something you can share?"

"…"

* * *

" _He lacks creativity you know. So much potential, wasted because of his narrowmindedness."_

_They were remarkably harsh words for someone like Chloe. Then again, the face she wore wasn't exactly typical for the brunette chef either. It was why Momo raised an eyebrow rather than completely dismiss her statement, watching the combination of anger and disappointment passing over Chloe's face._

" _You were there. He made those apples." Momo pointed out curiously, hiding her surprise when Chloe suddenly began to palm her face._

" _No, he didn't make them; he recreated them. 'Make' implies that he made the recipe, actually put in the work to make unique innovations!" she exclaimed tiredly. "Do you know where the recipe for those apples came from? It came from Eric Ripert, a Michelin star chef working in New York. It took Caspar months to get the dessert perfected. He'll do the same with whatever dish he comes across that takes his fancy, devote all his free time to perfecting it and then claiming himself a soon-to-be excellent chef. Ingrid and I have been trying to get him to stop but he won't, not until he reaches the top."_

" _I see."_

_Many in Totsuki did the same thing. If you were aiming for the top, then it was only natural that you would be inspired by those who stand above you. Doing nothing but imitation though? That didn't make you a chef, that made you an imposter. Needless to say, those who could not be chefs based on their skills were quickly rooted out of Totsuki. Momo hadn't blinked when some of them were exorcised from her classes; she couldn't afford to waste her time thinking about copycats._

_Harry, stirred in his sleep, a small grimace appearing on his face yet refused to awaken. After a small rough nudge, Momo went back to ignoring her sleeping partner._

" _If Caspar spent as much time researching his recipes and improving his skills that way, he could be incredible. As he is now, if I told him to try and make a berry version of his apple dessert or something, he'd have no idea what to do! He even has the gall to say I'm not a good chef, all just because I can't make the same gourmet dishes he can!" Chloe finally concluded with heavy panting, having risen from her seated position halfway during her rant._

_Momo had to blink; partially because Chloe's image of Caspar clashed so greatly with what Momo had seen and partially because she had no idea how to react to the brunette's tirade at first. She didn't particularly care about the ashen haired boy and Momo was more than happy to express that through her response._

" _Then he'll lose."_

" _I don't know if he will. The judges didn't seem to recognise the apples, so Caspar could probably just use any other-" Chloe began, only for a withering glare from Momo to destroy whatever confidence she had managed to muster. Never interrupt Momo Akanegakubo; that lesson would be burned into Chloe's mind for the rest of her life. "Y-yes!?"_

" _He will lose. Harry and I shall beat him." The purple-haired girl continued, uncaring for referring to herself in the third person; there was a time and place for her cutesy act. "We'll show him how actual chefs work."_

"… _It won't be enough. Even if you beat him at this competition, it will probably only spur him to copy even more people, try to find dishes from chefs that are better than you. His stubbornness wouldn't let him do anything else." Chloe sighed, her face almost falling into her hands before a burst of inspiration lit the fire within her eyes. Standing suddenly, Chloe managed to avoid glimpsing the irritation the implication of better chefs spurred in Momo. "Momo. Do you think that you and Harry can do me a massive favour?"_

* * *

"…Momo? You still there?" Harry continued to push, reaching out to grab Momo's biscuit. When it was violently pulled away with a fatal glare in his direction, Harry gave a rather ironic sigh of relief; he might be close to death, but at least Momo was suddenly alive again. "Okay, welcome back. What just happened?"

"Nothing." Was the succinct answer, one that made the frown on Harry's face grow.

"You can't just say nothing after that. You were gone for a good minute or something."

"It was noth-"

Her objections were swiftly cut off by a strange noise – a muffled choke followed by a low thump from an indeterminable direction. Had the thump been alone, it would've somewhat innocuous, perhaps a bag of produce hitting the ground. As it was, however, the pair spared one another a confused glance before gliding through the market. they had some time to spare before they needed to go back.

Their suspicions quickly changed to abstract fear when an explosion suddenly rocked their world, debris flying far too close to comfort. Ears ringing from the combination of the explosion and the frightened screams that followed, Harry clumsily ran forward with Momo following closely behind. Before she could come too close however, she was quickly stopped by Harry's hands on her shoulders, the boy's faced more panicked than she had ever seen.

"We need to run! Now!" the boy cried, Momo letting a grunt of pain when she was forcibly turned around. Not that she was going to complain about running away, not if the intense horror running through Harry's system was any sign of what he saw. "They shouldn't be here. Why a market in Australia of all places…!?"

"What?" her confusion caused Momo to stop, something that in hindsight wasn't exactly the best of ideas considering the explosions that had rocked the market. She simply couldn't help herself however, eyes narrowing as she turned back to the boy desperately trying to push her forward. Those final words barely qualified as a whisper yet they couldn't evade Momo's detection. "You know them?"

"What? No. This is not the time for this sort of thing." Harry distractedly scolding, his pushed getting even harsher until Momo quite literally threw his arms off her. Fortunately, they were sequestered in a small gap away from the main mob, meaning their chances of being found had been at least somewhat reduced. "Momo, there are better situations to begin questioning people!"

"No, you said that these people shouldn't be here." The purple-haired girl pointed out in a harsh whisper, stabbing her finger into the boy's stomach with a glare. Harry responded by throwing his arms up, an anger one usually wouldn't dare show a senior bubbling beneath his core.

"They're a group of terrorists that have just blown up part of the market; do _you_ think they _should_ be here?" was the scathing answer Harry gave, the glare that Momo gave narrowing.

"You know what I mean. There was familiarity. You've met them before." Momo replied, Harry about to form another biting remark before his form deflated.

Watching as her junior grabbed his head in stress, pulling at the black strands, Momo was taken aback when Harry's hands suddenly fell on her shoulder's again. The anger that had been there before had faded, replaced by a more recondite expression that Momo struggled to read.

"Sorry, shouldn't be taking the stress out on you." The boy muttered apologetically Momo simply giving a small harrumph in response. She supposed some incidents could be excused, so long as they only happened once. "Look, Momo. Do you trust me?"

"…Yes." She eventually answered, only a moment of hesitation before making her decision. There were few that she placed trust in; a competitive atmosphere from middle school would do that. Harry though, for all his eccentricities and annoying activities, had done little to betray her. Momo could afford to place her trust in someone like that, right? At least once?

"Good. Then just remember that I did this for your sake." Was how Harry answered before Momo saw the boy mouth something incomprehensible and her world grew dark. Cradling Momo's no inert body, harry carefully pushed it deeper into the crevice they had wedged themselves into; so long as his plans worked as expected, she should remain relatively unharmed. "Well, you probably won't remember, but it's the thought that counts. Now then… What happened to the Statute of Secrecy? I bent the rules a little, but this is going just a little too far."

Fortunately, most of the people had already fled the immediate area, meaning there were few chances for the wand in Harry's hand to be seen. Considering what he expected to happen, the boy would be putting his wand through its paces, and not with particularly welcoming spells. The less work needed to erase the evidence, the better – especially when the others still prowling about didn't seem the type to care about the consequences.

Neither did they seem to the type to care about blending in with the common people, clad in those horrific black cloaks of theirs. The masks weren't helping either, stylised skulls of silver with terrible little teeth carved into them. They couldn't look any more comic book villain if they tried, though the explosions they had so happily caused below prevented Harry from stating such a thing out loud. Exaggerated their appearances may be, they weren't feared by the people of Magical Britain without reason.

Harry had little experience with them. By the time they began causing chaos again, Harry had already been long gone. The closest that Harry got was the few recreations you could find in a History of Magic textbook. Well, the reason Death Eaters were as disguised as they were was that they were simply everyday people with dangerous beliefs; for all the black-haired boy knew, he could've met several and never realised it.

He probably had, for there was no other reason why they would've taken action in Australia of all places. The Dark Lord, as feared as he was, remained mostly contained to the British Isles, save for his recruiting attempts. Those who served under him wouldn't just cause chaos anywhere, not if they didn't want to force the armies of the globe's magical communities to gather against them. This was a planned assault, one that Harry had to make sure wasn't attempted again at another time. Fortunately for him, Harry had a couple of intriguing concoctions sitting in his bag, once intended for disposal. Now, he had found the best way to get rid of them.

The Potent Exstimulo potion was a relatively complex brew, the difficulty of its creation balanced by the magnificence of its effects. Just a single sip was more than enough to double a wizard or witch's magical power, making it a common choice for Aurors or similar high-intensity roles. It couldn't have any other effect, not when the potion required both the hair of a unicorn and the blood of a Re'em.

That magic amplification came with plenty of dangers however, especially when one began to tamper with the bitter root or snowdrops also required for the potion. Their distinct inertness in comparison to the highly magically charged unicorn hair and Re'em blood meant that a certain equilibrium was made. That equilibrium was essential, as it was what made the potion stable and suitable for drinking. Reduce the amount of bitter root and you've essentially made a magic-based acid that will corrode the stomach of whichever unfortunate soul tried to consume it. Forget the snowdrop and you've brewed a ticking time bomb that had taken many a life.

Considering those details, it was pretty easy to figure out what would happen if you miraculously managed to forget both of them during the brewing process. After all, only an idiot would casually decide to combine unicorn hair with Re'em blood knowing how deeply saturated they were in magic. Harry wasn't an idiot. He _was_ someone who realised that his name made him a target in the eyes of some very powerful people, which meant he needed as many ways to fight back as possible.

Sneaking around the back of some broken market stalls, Harry began busily rustling through his bag. Thanks to his experiments with the potent exstimulo potion, he had the tiniest amounts of unicorn hair and Re'em blood remaining; more than enough to cause some serious damage if they were ever to meet under a stimulus. He would have to be quick before any defence forces arrived, but Harry was pretty certain he could finish in time.

After all, despite no doubt combing the area in search of Harry, the Death Eaters had yet to register his presence. That was probably thanks to the many days spent cowering in fear of Dudley and his little gang every ounce of his being put into avoiding a humiliating beatdown. Never had Harry ever thought those days would be helping him out like this, but that was life he supposed.

Fingering the two vials in his hands, the teen gave a silent sigh. All he had to do was throw the vials, sent a redactor curse towards them, and watch the fireworks. They chose to don the garbs of bigots and killers, place innocent lives in danger just to bring a homicidal maniac into power. They deserved everything that the mixture would do to them. That didn't mean Harry wasn't hesitant to cause such horrific damage to another human. That was lowering himself to their level.

But then he saw the boy.

His flesh appeared like a burnt joint of beef; uninviting red flesh marred by a wall of scorched black. His skin bubbled and blistered like pork crackling, giving way with a sharp snap as it was shattered by a falling piece of wood. Eyes like those of a fish stared lifelessly to the sky, bulging and bright as if freshly killed. Together, it looked as if his body had been thrown through a flambé, left to brown under the glaring sun and served upon a jus formed of his blood.

The sight and scent delivered Harry to a graveyard, one raided, where bodies were left to rot in the open. A single glance sent a shiver of unreadable emotion through Harry's body, a horrific cross between uncontrollable anger and intense hatred. The scent sickened him, the face of a child going through a torturous death seared onto his mind like a steak.

Without thinking, the vials left his hands.

A quick Reductor curse and Harry was listening to the sound of pained screaming. Spells began to fly around, an already damaged market now becoming even worse, but the flames and explosions were too chaotic to land. Though his clothes were singed, his skin disgustingly hot and probably more than a few splinters stuck in his skin, Harry was able to escape relatively unharmed. The same could not be said for the Death Eaters however, not when a particularly sharp piece of wood began to fall in their direction. Their cries promptly cut short, the teen had to hold back his disgust as he raced over, carefully extracting broken wands from cooling hands before making his escape.

Returning to where Momo was still safely hidden, Harry tried his best to stifle the bile that threatened to come from his throat. If the trajectory of his throw was right, the acidic combination would completely burn the Death Eaters' masks and the skin of their faces. Hopefully, it would be enough to hide most of the details that would incriminate the magical world. They would be branded as some mysterious sect of terrorists whose actions caused their own horrific deaths.

Stumbling to a stop near to the market's entrance, Harry barely managed to hand Momo off to another before proceeding to vomit everything he could onto the pavement.

* * *

"… and besides, you, Harry James Potter, haven't sent me a single letter in ages!"

"To be fair I've been a little tied up at the moment. A lot to do, lots of places to visit."

"I've noticed. I swear, you're either in the middle of trouble or searching for it."

When Momo reawakened, it was far from the market she had last seen. The hard ground had been replaced by the comfort of a warm bed, the gentle sound of some sort of classical music drifting from a nearby speaker. A quick wipe of her eyes brought the world into focus, the purple-haired girl glancing around the bedroom she was in with no small amount of confusion and suspicion. Her head was spinning, the moments since the first explosion seeming more like a dream every passing second.

The only familiar thing Momo could see was Harry and even then, the brunette he was talking to was a stranger to her. A combination of drowsiness and uncertainty prevented Momo from interrupting their conversation, but it was quickly cut short when her eyes met Harry's.

"You feeling alright? There weren't any visible injuries, but you don't come out of something like that unscathed." Harry was quick to question, practically teleporting to Momo's side. The sudden intimacy threw Momo off a bit, immediately flinching away to Harry's embarrassment. "Sorry, sorry. Still a little bit on edge mind's flying at a million miles an hour."

It was an unnecessary explanation, with how Harry held himself. As composed as he tried to appear, there was no hiding the way his hands trembled, how his eyes darted with frantic energy. Even as he sank into the bed, he looked ready to bolt at any moment. It was reasonable, however; unlike Momo's mere glimpse of the explosion and… whatever caused her to faint, Harry had gotten a first-hand glimpse of the ones responsible.

"Allow me to explain." The brunette interceded, Momo subtly surprised. Ever since they had come to Australia, she had been forced to use English. It wasn't as if there was _much_ of a problem, but Momo was annoyed to admit that she wasn't the best with languages. Apart from Harry, this girl had been the first to greet her with Japanese. "My name's Hermione, I've been a friend of Harry's for a while. Right now, you're in my family's holiday home. The market you were in was pretty close to where my family and I were spending the day, so when news spread, I rushed over to see what had happened. Imagine my surprise when I find Harry right in the middle of things, holding your unconscious body."

"Right..." Momo mumbled, clutching her head. A tiny bit was becoming clearer, but her mind remained woefully cluttered. So many noises, so many people rushing by; every sight and sound played on what seemed like an endless loop. There was one thing that stood out though, something that had Momo turning to Harry. "You recognised them…"

"Er, well… I was honestly hoping you wouldn't remember that." Harry admitted, his hand awkwardly fidgeting as his mind raced for the words he needed. "Well, how do I put this… "

"From what little I was able to learn, those guys were from a group of British terrorists. They're the kind of people who keep spouting on about blood supremacy and how immigration is ruining Britain's communities. I guess Australia's history of housing British criminals made them view the country as lesser or something. I don't see why they would be here otherwise." Hermione quickly explained Harry shooting the girl a glance of deep appreciation. "Harry and I have heard about them from history lessons, but this is the first time in a while I think they've acted so blatantly. Usually, they try not to get noticed."

Though he didn't show it, a huge amount of stress left Harry when he saw Momo quietly nodding. How Hermione was able to make up something so close to the truth while hiding all of the important details, Harry didn't know. What he did know was that he'd have to make her a meal as compensation – nay, a feast. After all Hermione had done for him, both at Hogwarts and beyond, food was the least Harry could do for his friend.

"Everybody else?" Momo asked after a moment's hesitation. The number of people at the market was no small number and the explosion had been strong enough to rock the area.

"There were a… a couple of casualties." Harry spoke up. "A few people managed to get caught up in the explosion. A-a young child, two twenty-year-olds. Apparently, once we got away, the terrorists, they ended up killing themselves as well. It wasn't pretty."

If it weren't for Hermione's hands on his shoulders Harry would've probably thrown up again. Though she had meant well in her offer, the black-haired boy was _really_ starting to regret the small snacks that Mrs Granger had offered him.

It wasn't the first time that he had witnessed death. Whether it be a ghoul's vessel disintegrated by the power of love or a fragment of memory dissolved by the venom of a Basilisk, Harry was not fresh to death. Considering it had been his hands both times that caused said deaths, he wasn't even innocent of murder. Honestly, he shouldn't have been as affected by the Death Eaters' gruesome deaths, regardless of what Hermione had whispered in his ear.

This was the first time he had killed someone out of Hogwarts though. Ever since Harry had left, it had been an unpleasant memory to be repressed. Far away from Britain and its magical community, there would be little reason for Harry to ever recall such horrific acts. Any trouble that Harry came across was voluntary; little, if none of it, had involved harming another individual.

Now, it was clear that the past was catching up to him, and Harry didn't like the idea one bit. The reason Harry had decided to re-enter education was that he thought it was safe to _finally_ take a break from travelling. That the confusing journey he had taken over the years would be enough to shake the dark forces off his tail. Unless he wanted to put all of his new friends in danger, Harry would have to be extra cautious, perhaps even resume his travels altogether.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, though perhaps that was just another sign of him being ready to throw up any minute. Unlike all of the other acquaintances he had made on his journeys, Harry had introduced himself to the students of Totsuki as if he was going to stay. At the time, he _was_ planning to stay. It was a lot harder to tell those kinds of people that he was potentially about to suddenly disappear for who knew how long.

"The contest…?" Momo's hesitant question brought Harry out his thoughts. For a moment, he had completely forgotten what they had been in Australia for.

"It doesn't matter. We need to return to Japan. I'm not going to risk sticking around if it means putting you in danger." The black-haired boy immediately decided, a pointed look towards Hermione as he did so. His watching the conflicted look that came on the brunette's face meant that Harry missed a similar expression on Momo's.

" _Momo. Do you think that you and Harry can do me a massive favour?"_

"…. No, we can't go now."

"Momo, we have no idea why they decided to attack that market." Harry urged, disturbed by the insistence in Momo's face. Surely she of all people would be able to understand his hesitance, when she had been rather dismissive of the competition in the first place? The only reason they were there, after all, was so they could fulfil a quota to ensure the confectionary RS stayed alive. "We have no idea what the terrorists' aims were, if there are any more of them, or where they could potentially attack next. For all we know, they were attacking the market _because_ the contest was there! The market isn't exactly that stand out by itself, but attacking a highly renowned competition is sure to have news spreading. It's not safe to carry on."

Momo didn't disagree. Any other situation and she too would be planning to take the next plane home. If the administration at Totsuki had any complaints about her confectionary RS, she would simply have the Elite Ten overrule them. There were few consequences, especially considering that the organisers of the competition wouldn't blame them for wanting to drop out after such an event. There was only one thing holding her back from leaving.

"… _What?"_

Honour meant everything, whether inside the kitchen or out. A chef who lacked honour, who saw no problems with lying or cheating their way through life, barely deserved to call themselves chefs. Momo had made many boasts and promises, but none that she could never fulfil. Some may have called her blunt or a coward, but any dares or challenges that were out of her league had been immediately denied. It meant that Momo had a perfect record for keeping her promises.

" _Please show Caspar the folly of his ways. Show him that if he wants to be a proper chef he can't keep on mimicking people for the rest of his life!"_

" _And how would Momo do that?"_

" _Beat him. To the ground. Show him the difference between someone who thinks they're a chef and someone who actually is."_

"… _Harsh."_

" _But necessary. Will you do this for me, Momo?"_

That record would not be broken.


	14. The indirect challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On recipes and runes.

"Hermione, could you preheat the oven? We're looking for about 90 degrees. Momo, do you want to poach the turkey breasts? I'll start on the filling." Harry called out, two sounds of acknowledgement coming from behind him. Deft hands made quick work of a red onion, garlic minced soon after so both could fry off in olive oil. Once they softened and gained some nice colour, he would be able to add in the spinach sitting to the side. "Once the turkey's done, we can just pull it into strips."

"…Are you sure you don't need my help?" a tentative voice remarked, Harry answering with a reassuring smile. Somehow, it did little to reduce Mrs Granger's scepticism. "You two have gone through a lot recently, there's no need to put yourself through more work. We should be cooking for you."

"Don't worry. It's kind of relaxing." Harry did his best to assuage, boiling water poured over 260 grams of spinach. Thirty seconds and it would be wonderfully wilted. "Besides, this is a rare occasion. Not everyone gets the chance to eat food made by Totsuki students; consider this our thanks. The only reason Hermione's helping out is that she wouldn't say no."

"Even if it's a holiday home, this is still our house. I can't just let guests do the cooking without helping out." The brunette remarked, her prim and proper tone offset by the smug expression on her face. Considering that it was the same expression Hermione had every time she got her way, Harry let it go with a mere roll of his eyes. "Besides, if nothing else, it gives me an excuse to steal the recipe. I won't turn down an opportunity to learn more."

"Of course." Harry's teasing drawl was punctuated by the boy squeezing the spinach, the heat doing nothing to the black-haired boy's hands. After all the potions he had worked with and had explode on him, Harry's hands were becoming disturbingly used to the sensation. "But like I said, just sit back. This is our way of saying thanks for putting up with us. Give us… half an hour?"

"Very well. I look forward to it." Mrs Granger replied, turning out of the kitchen with only slight hesitance. "Just be careful about what you let Hermione do. I'm sure she's tried to hide it from you, but there have been more than a few mishaps when she's tried to help with the cooking."

"Mum! That was years ago!" with folded arms and a clear pout, Hermione closed her eyes. It didn't do anything to drown out Harry's laughter, but it made schooling herself just that slight bit easier. "Don't listen to her Harry, just tell me what to do."

"I'll try my best," Harry said, rather proud of how little he laughed while doing so. "You can start work on the topping then. 50 grams of butter into 100 grams of plain flour, rubbed into a breadcrumb consistency. Then, a teaspoon of oregano, teaspoon of smoked paprika, teaspoon of – no, half a teaspoon of garlic powder… and 50 grams of cornmeal, stirred in."

Though her hands never paused in tearing apart the freshly poached turkey, Momo's mind was far from the act. No, pondering Harry's compromise was far more interesting. The fact that there was a compromise at all honestly surprised the purple-haired girl. With how vehemently he had argued, the sudden change in attitude seemingly came out of nowhere.

"… _You don't want to stay because of the competition, do you?" Harry's accusation cut through any defence Momo had, a typically stoic face unable to hide her surprise. "There's something else here, isn't there?"_

" _Yes."_

_There was no reason to hide it after all. It didn't change her determination at all. Though it drew a weary sigh from Harry, Momo made sure to make it clear on her visage just how willing she was. Perhaps that was why Harry fell into silence for several moments._

" _Two days."_

"… _?"_

" _Two days, and then I'm we're going back. Any longer and I'd get a little too nervous. That's acceptable, right?" Harry muttered louder, turning to the side. "Hermione, do you mind if we stay for dinner? I can pay you back for the disturbance, whip something nice up."_

" _No need. It's the least I could do. You'd probably end up getting tangled in some new mess if you went back to your hotel earlier." Hermione retorted. Harry's response was a weak chuckle. There was no need to mention the awkwardness behind their first experience in the hotel. "My parents may be a little more difficult to convince, but it won't be too difficult. They've always liked a lively household anyway."_

" _Cool. You have time to think things over during dinner and then you can use tomorrow to put your plans into action. Is that alright then, Momo?"_

"… _Yeah. Thanks."_

"Hey Momo, have you finished with the turkey?" jolted back into reality, Momo glanced down at the pile of ripped meat before her, silently passing it over to Harry's waiting hands. Combined with the previous vegetables, two cobs worth of corn, 300 grams of crème fraiche and a heaped tablespoon of American mustard, it would make for an amazing filling. "We're good on our end. Hermione, you ready?"

"It seems to be the right consistency…" was the distracted reply, Harry peering over the girl's shoulder. When he suddenly pulled the bowl away from her hands, Hermione wasn't quite sure how to respond. "Wh-what? Was I doing something wrong?"

"…Hey, let me feel your hands for a second." Hermione had little time to respond before both of her hands were held in Harry's, a light dusting of pink appearing upon her cheeks as he tenderly caressed them. Had it been anyone else to make such a strange request, they surely would've been denied. As it was Harry, Hermione's mind could barely register what had happened by the time the boy let go. "Ah, okay. When you're rubbing butter into stuff, you want to keep your palms away. They're the hottest parts of your hand. You're lucky though, you've got pastry making hands."

"I know tha – pastry making hands?" Hermione questioned.

"As opposed to bread-making hands. Bread-making hands mean your palms are hotter, which helps when activating the yeast when kneading bread. Pastry-making hands mean your palms are colder, which stops the butter from melting as easily." Explained Harry. "Not exactly something they tell you in the cookbook, but it's something you need to know. It means that even if your technique wasn't the best, this is ready to go over the filling! Give that twenty minutes and it should be good to go. 200 grams of Cavolo Nero on the boil – season, lemon zest it and we're done."

"Seems simple enough. I should be able to repeat that." Hermione muttered as she crouched down, her face lit by the glow of the oven. Though the dish had only been in there for such a small amount of time, a wonderful aroma was already beginning to emanate from within. "It'll be nice to give the parents a break from cooking. Even on holiday, they insist on doing their food. It's not that they're bad chefs, but holidays are meant to be for relaxing."

"A Turkey crumble like this is also good for when you have leftovers lying around. If your parents have spent some time roasting off a turkey or something, you can make this then as well." Added Harry. "Gives you more excuses to take over the kitchen. You can do the same thing any time they have roast chicken as well – basically any time you have some leftover meat, you can make a crumble. Just be sure to adjust for flavours. More importantly, Momo?"

"Hm?"

"Any idea what you're going to do after this? If you want to get what you want done, it's better to do it sooner rather than later." Harry's remarks brought a frown to Momo's face, yet she nodded regardless. Though it may not have been the most solid of plans, it was far better than what she had before.

"Yeah. Momo needs the kitchen for a bit. Then everything will be done."

* * *

"How long have we got on the salmon?"

"Five minutes for salmon!"

"Asparagus ready for steaming!"

"Echo five minutes for the salmon cream!"

With the sounds of a busy kitchen around him, Nikolas was more than occupied. Despite the recent news of a terrorist attack, the restaurant had remained fortunately busy. The opportunity for his customer base to disappear was a very real one; Nikolas could only thank the Lord.

That had been what spurred him to introduce his latest addition to the menu. What better way to declare to the world that they were still going strong than to inject some more life into their offerings? A salmon confit flamme, accompanied by steamed asparagus and a salmon ice cream: an unconventional offer that drew eager foodies through the door. Though the arrangements required from his sous chefs were somewhat unorthodox, the positive reviews the dish had earned were more than worth it. Yes, Nikolas was more than pleased with how his choice had borne fruit.

"I need two salmons for table fifteen!" manning the pass, Nikolas glanced back as his team yelled their acknowledgements. It was almost unnecessary; with the skilful team he had constructed, the shifts passed like clockwork. Even Chloe, as clutzy as the girl could be, had yet to make a mistake that night. "How are we doing on table four?"

"You're missing a steak. The previous one was ten seconds overcooked."

"Fin- bloody hell!" with Nikolas getting on in his years, the last thing he needed was any unnecessary surprises. You can imagine just how well he reacted when his gaze finally moved down and he saw the head of purple hair bobbing through the kitchen.

It was as if a cat had entered, leaping from station to station without rhyme or reason. That was, if said cat had scathing advice for every dish it came across, the men barely managing to hide their irritation at her comments. It was only the fact that she was correct that had the chefs holding their tongues. The girl even dared to grab a spoon and taste the latest batch of salmon cream, only to give a small scowl as it touched her tongue.

"Too much cream, dilutes the salmon flavour."

"What the hell are you doing? I said you could do your work, not mess about with my men!" Nikolas quickly growled. The words had zero effect on Momo, however, if her disinterested face meant anything. Though she didn't make it overt, the amusement in Momo's eyes as she licked her spoon brought a vein to Nikolas' forehead.

"I need a part of the kitchen. Our deal still stands." Momo's request came without an ounce of remorse, Nikolas left spluttering for words. Regardless, he was a man of pride – he couldn't be a head chef of an award-winning restaurant if he weren't. To rescind now would become a sticking point Nikolas wouldn't be able to live down. "Somewhere with an oven."

"…Urgh, just stay out of the chefs' way. There should be a workspace free next to Chloe." Nikolas acquiesced, receiving nought more than a brief nod for his troubles. At least the other kid had _tried_ to appear polite.

"Huh? Oh, it's you Momo." Momentarily stilling her knife, Chloe dropped the salmon in her hand to give a quick wave. Work could only be paused so long, however; the second her greeting was done, Chloe's hands were moving at lightning speed once more. "Sorry if I can't talk much… head chef Nikolas gave me a delicate job."

"It's fine." Momo absently replied.

After all, she had her own job to do. It was why a blank worktop was quickly filled to the brim with all manner of ingredients, an analytical eye passing over them all. Though the supplier was a recognised and praised name, their workers weren't omnipotent. Beginning to cook without checking what your working with was simply inviting misfortune. Luckily, everything seemed to be in good order.

As an oven preheated to 120 degrees Celsius, the sugar within grew closer to the perfect working temperature. It wasn't a necessary move, yet heating the sugar would make incorporating it to the six egg whites whipping together far simpler. Momo's eyes remained fixed to the stand mixer, carefully awaiting the first signs of stabilising bubbles. That would be when the heated cup and a half of granulated sugar, 3 tablespoons of corn starch and 3 tablespoons of white vinegar would join it, accelerating to a rapid whip. Only one teaspoon at a time, however, lest you deflate the meringues. So long as Momo was cautious though, they would work wonderfully to ensure a crisp exterior and a sticky interior.

Had Momo been making mere ordinary meringue, such volumes would not be necessary. The extra portion, however, would serve a highly crucial purpose. That was why a third of the mixture was split from the rest, split between two bowls that would receive their special treatment. One would receive a generous amount of freeze-dried raspberry powder and the smallest amount of pink food colouring, a pink tinge that would shine through even after baking. The other, met with a few drops the most intense lemon essence Momo could find and yellow colouring, would serve as an excellent counterpart.

After a small struggle to try and procure some hemisphere moulds, Momo was primed for action. With a 10 centimetre diameter, the greased moulds would be just the right size when turned upside down, guiding the piped meringue into perfect domes. After a spatula carefully combed over each dome, eliminating any gaps it came across, they would serve as the blank canvases upon which the other two colours would be lain. Had they been mixed, the result would've been ugly at best; with the yellow and pink drizzled on, their beautiful hues would remain in pristine swirls.

Seeing as they would take an hour to finish baking, Momo spent no time hesitating to begin the next portion of her mission. Just like the meringue, lemon curd was rather simple on paper, yet difficult to execute perfectly. A cup and a half of sugar met three-quarters of a cup of water in a large pot, 6 tablespoons of corn starch added in after the mixture had come to a boil. Once it had returned to boiling temperature, it was far from the nicest looking mixture. Thick and gloopy, yet undeniably disgusting; how it could possibly become something delectable would confound non-chefs.

A small spoonful into 4 beaten egg yolks, however, would help slowly acclimate them to the mixture's harsh temperature. Once Momo had incorporated about a third into the eggs, they would no longer scramble upon being poured into the original mix. The risk hadn't fully abated though, Momo taking extra caution to control the low heat. Fortunately, the mixture wouldn't have to remain long; a few seconds passed as 3 tablespoons of butter melted in before it was quickly removed from the heat. The half cup of lemon juice and zest of two lemons whisked in after would finally complete the curd.

With half a pint of strawberries halved and thyme finely chopped, all that awaited Momo was the final assembly. Once the meringue shells had cooled completely (left within the oven for a more natural cooling process), Momo's delicate hands went to work. With the knife skills expected of a master chef, half of the meringue domes found their bottoms trimmed flat, their edges made sharp and straight. Had the purple-haired girl not done so, they would've never come together as beautifully as they would now.

In half of them, a tantalising combination of three quarters of a cup of Greek yoghurt and 3 tablespoons of confectioner's sugar was placed within. In the other shells went the freshly made lemon curd. The half-pint of sliced strawberries was split between them, alongside half a pint of whole strawberries, a cup of raspberries and the shredded thyme. As Momo's hands carefully paired the filled domes together, analytical eyes gazed down at the completed meringue bombs.

There was chocolate put aside to be melted over, but was it a necessity? Nice dark chocolate would work well with many of the flavours within; had she wanted to, Momo could've even swirled the chocolate onto the meringue rather than the lemon and strawberry. As the bombs were, however, she had gone too far down her path to consider changing courses. Introducing another powerful flavour would simply throw the entire thing off-balance. Besides, after having carefully worked to preserve the swirls of yellow and pink within her meringues, covering them in a blanket of chocolate would be an unnecessary waste. No – as they were, the meringue bombs barely passed Momo's standards. No need to jeopardise that.

"They look nice." Momo was forced to pause in her plating at Chloe's comment, turning to watch the brunette. Though Chloe's eyes glanced repeatedly to the meringue bombs proudly on display, her hands never stopped in their preparation of the salmon. For such a clumsy girl, it was a miraculous thing to behold. Carefully inserting her blade to minimise wastage, Chloe's swift slices left an almost immaculate skin even when distracted as she was. Without the skin, the tweezers Chloe then picked up easily plucked out the remaining pin bones. Sliced, the pieces were quickly passed on to the next station as another fish replaced it. "Were they what you were… gonna make for the contest?"

"Yeah." Was the succinct answer, Momo too busy preparing the finishing touches. The actions brought a small sound of confusion to Chloe.

"Do you have to be so meticulous? If it's just a prototype… no need to be so careful."

"Not a prototype. That would be unnecessary." Momo's retort finally brought Chloe to stop, her tools falling to the table as she fully turned around. Unaware, Chloe almost knocked the offered plate with her movements, only able to avoid a disaster at the last moment.

"O-oh! Um, so, I'm tasting?"

"If you want," Momo replied, only for her casual face to gain steel in less than a second. The sharp transformation had Chloe reeling, though not as much as the statement that followed. "They're for Caspar. Our final challenge."

"F-final challenge? What do you mean?" the words slipped out of Chloe's mouth before she could realise it. "You still have quite a bit of the competition to go. This shouldn't be close to a final challenge."

"We cannot challenge Caspar in the competition. The competition is too dangerous, Harry says. We're going home."

The words hit like a jackhammer. Chloe could only stand speechless as she numbly took the plate from Momo's hands. As tantalising as the bombs appeared, the brunette's lips were far too dry to even contemplate tasting them.

Perhaps the extent of Chloe's surprise was a bit excessive. With every news channel screaming about the bombing incident, they were perfectly entitled to return to their homes. After all, they had come to participate in a single competition, one that had inadvertently nearly killed them. What reason did they have to stay when they could return to the safety of their homes?

Even so…

"I-I guess you can't keep your promise then..." The brunette dejectedly murmured, only for embarrassment to quickly colour her cheeks. "That's not a-an accusation or anything! I never should've pushed so much onto you! As an older sister, it should be my job to teach Caspar. I'm sorry for trying to make you do this for me."

"You should." Despite the veracity of her statement, Chloe couldn't help but wince at the Momo's bluntness. In doing so, however, she caught sight of a highly rare expression upon Momo's face. The excited smirk only lasted for a breath before the purple-haired girl schooled her face, but it still sent a shiver down Chloe's spine. "However, Momo made the promise. Backing down would be bad. Give Caspar the food. Show Caspar this letter. Then he will change. Not quickly, but he will. Stubborn; he'll take the bait."

"Bait?"

But Chloe would receive no answer. All she could do was watch as Momo stepped out of the kitchen, nought but a single dish and the mountain of dirty washing left in her wake. It wasn't the strangest of exists the brunette had seen. Thanks to Totsuki's penchant for attracting strange personalities, she had faced far worse in her years of study. Regardless, her body remained frozen until Nikolas' cry for further preparations reached her ear. Spurred to action, the meringue bombs were carefully stowed away in the fridge.

It wasn't until the end of service that Chloe would build up the courage to finally take a spoon to one of the meringue bombs. Though hours had passed, they were as beautiful as the moment they were finished. Breaking under the force of Chloe's spoon with a beautiful texture, Chloe couldn't help but admire the beautiful colours that were revealed. With vibrant yellow and red mingling with a soothing white, it was a masterpiece to view. The sight alone had Chloe's tongue salivating, her movements rushed as she brought it to her lips. Once the meringue touched her lips, there was only one thought that came to mind.

"…This just might work!"

* * *

When Chloe stumbled back into her home as the clock struck midnight, the weary sighed came instinctively. Though the ratatouille-based risotto that Nikolas had trialled more than filled her up, the exhaustion of an eleven-hour workday would not be so easily dismissed. Needless to say, the blinding light of Caspar's computer did little to help Chloe's mood.

"Shouldn't you be asleep right now?" the brunette muttered, absently rubbing at her eyes. Considering the contents, she probably should've placed her bags with a lot more delicacy than she did. Her state of mind simply couldn't bring itself to care, however. "It's not healthy for you to stay up this late."

"You don't get to tell me that with your work schedule." The ashen haired boy dismissively replied, too distracted by his screen to make eye contact. "Besides, I need to make sure my creations are perfect. I can't afford to grow lax because of a little distraction like this. With this kind of competition, I haven't felt this motivated in _ages_!"

"And by competition, I assume you mean Harry and Momo?" came Chloe's dry retort. There wasn't anyone else it could be. Strange obsession aside, there was simply no one who could produce the same level of quality as Caspar. Even Ingrid, having worked alongside Caspar practically since birth, would fall short if they were to be directly compared. It was a sad affair, having no else who could show Caspar the folly of his ways before they were too deeply engrained. "Well, there's no point. Those two said they were going to drop out of the contest."

Deathly silence. Not the silence of an empty room, or of two people without anything to say. No, the silence that filled the air at that declaration was a different beast entirely. It took several minutes for the oppressive atmosphere to disappear; whether it was an improvement was still questionable. After all, while the anger in the air faded away, it seemed to have been sucked into an increasingly visibly frustrated Caspar.

"They left you a gift." Fortunately, that alone was enough to abate Caspar's anger. Temporarily at last. Without knowing what was held within Momo's note, Chloe could only prepare for the worst. "I guess they knew you would react like this, so they gave me some food and a letter to give you. Take a peek – I'm going to sleep."

For once in his life, Caspar didn't give a reply. There was no hesitation as he stepped towards the dropped bag, eager hands rummaging through. Compared to his sister's usual inventory, the carefully sealed bag immediately stood out even in the dark. With the way he handled it, the dessert might as well have been a priceless treasure. Such a concept was reinforced immediately when Caspar caught a glimpse of the meringue bombs' appearance.

Yet Caspar didn't hesitate in taking a bite. It would've been a travesty not to taste them. Even if they looked beautiful, food was meant to be eaten. Sparing but a moment to admire the colours revealed, Caspar eagerly savoured the flavours that hit his tongue. As soon as he did, a gasp escaped as he was transported to a different world.

Spring is a fragile time. With the world being born anew, the days steadily growing longer, the delicate nature of the world is made clear. The stagnation of winter is banished, making way for fresh life. In one bite alone, that nascence flooded through Caspar's body. Perky, bright, sunny; every aspect of a blossoming Earth was embodied within the lemon. Tart, acidic, balancing; the raspberries mirrored the final remnants of winter's breath. Encased by a meringue shell formed of eggs – the eponymous image of birth – nothing could better embody the patina of nature embracing spring.

The meringue had the perfect juxtaposition of a crispy exterior and a pillow interior. The luscious lemon curd filled Caspar's mouth with a bright explosion of flavour, tempered by earthy specks of thyme. It would be overwhelming alone, yet the mellow nature of the barely altered Greek yoghurt, a perfect harmony was achieved. Thanks to the usage of Meyer lemons, no unnecessary sourness appeared, a subtle tart sweetness taking its place.

Caspar had yet to taste anything like it in his life. Even after replicating hundreds of the greatest recipes he could find, nothing matched the wonder of tasting those meringue bombs. That wasn't to say that Harry and Momo were automatically better chefs. Caspar had spent hours meticulously ensuring that his repertoire included creations from the best Totsuki graduates. Regardless, there was some inexplicable factor, something Caspar couldn't voice, that made the meringue bombs stand out. It was something to be admired, yet _utterly irritating_ to acknowledge.

His curiosity was piqued. There was nothing that could hold him back from reaching out for the letter sitting innocently beside the plate. Ripping open the envelope with little restraint, Caspar couldn't hide his surprise when only a single sentence was held within.

"…Fine. If this is how you want to play, let's do this."

* * *

"I can't even understand the first sentence in this," Hermione muttered in surprise as she descended the ladder, gently shaking the thick grimoire in her hand. Deftly sorting through the rest of his makeshift library, Harry could only give a noncommittal noise.

"What can I say? These books come from all around the world. With all the esoteric places I've been too, there are tons of books in languages I struggle to understand." He explained, unaware of the pout that appeared on Hermione's face. "If you go to the doorway, there should be a notebook with all the different translation spells I've come across. One of them should work."

"That's not what I mean, Harry. The book is in English." The correction nearly had Harry falling from the bookshelf in shock. Never had there been a moment where Hermione 'Queen of the Bookworms' Granger been unable to comprehend a concept. Even in the letters where Harry spoke of some strange magic he had come across, Hermione had intuitively grasped the concepts without even seeing the spells. For there to be any knowledge beyond Hermione's comprehension was a genuinely foreign sight. "These runic arrays, however, they're beyond anything I've seen in _England_. Professor Babbling's one of the greatest rune experts in the world; these things blow everything she's shown us out of the water. Actually, half of these seem to contradict what she told us were set laws of runic arrangements!"

"Wait, really?" with a statement like that, Harry would've been a fool to have not checked. As relatively simple as his library was, there was no reason to carry faulty books. Once he caught sight of the drawn image though, an expression of understanding dawned upon his face. "Ah, you're talking about the predicted area of effect exceeding the received magical input, right? The thing is, if you use this kind of altered curvature, you can sort of mess with the array's area density absorption. Not only do you have a greater efficiency that allows for a wider area of effect, but it also opens up more room for playing around with the specifics. It helps if you want to heat a cauldron to a specific temperature when the Wizarding World only uses cold, warm and hot. I would've figured that Professor Babbling would know about that; they're still working within Anglo-Saxon Futhorc principles."

"…You left Hogwarts before we even started thinking about optional subjects. How do you know so much about runes?"

Though at first glance, Hermione's voice was calm, there was an unreadable factor hidden within. A strange combination of emotions that fought for dominance, all quelled by an uncertain heart. The chaos of her mind marred Hermione's face momentarily, yet she only needed a second to school her features. As occupied with his thoughts as he was, Harry never stood a chance of noticing the turmoil.

"Well, you start running out of ideas to entertain yourself when you have a ten-hour journey. It wasn't at the top of my priority list, but I had bought the books and I wasn't just going to have them sit there. Once I read the first bunch, I figured it would be fun to read the rest." Harry easily replied with a grin. After all, that was how more than half of his collection had entered his possession. It was a costly rabbit hole, but Harry's curiosity would not be tamed. With so many hours spent travelling, it was better to keep the mind entertained than rotting in boredom; might as well do so in an educational manner. "It's the sort of stuff you can experiment with in a public space easily. If someone gets suspicious, all you have to do is put a few annulling slashes on the design. Instantly, you're only a fantasy nerd rather than a genuine runic stud- Hermione?"

"So, this is the distance between us, huh?" a bittersweetness not unlike a chocolate cake without sugar coated her smile. Though she tried her best to hold them back, Hermione was forced to wipe away the first signs of tears. "I figured from our letters that you were slightly more advanced than me, but I figured it was all the esoteric knowledge you were coming across in your travels. Little tidbits that you only knew because you randomly heard of them. I never realised how much you were growing without me. I guess all those letters I sent trying to 'teach' you stuff were all needless."

The gentle flick to her nose came as a surprise.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Harry muttered in return. His smile, though restrained, was just as honest as it had been before. "If it weren't for your letters, I wouldn't even have a library in the first place. It would've just been a shelf to store all my textbooks. It was only because you kept prompting me to learn and keep up my studies that I'm the person I am today. You kept persistently calling me a friend when the entirety of Hogwarts turned against me, you kept sending letters no matter how far away I was. With some of the messes I've gotten into, it isn't too far off to say that I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for your letters."

Loneliness was a horrible thing, self-inflicted or not. It could drive a man to his death; it had done so for many unfortunate souls. Had there been even a single hand that reached out to them, perhaps they would still walk among us. Without Hermione's hand constantly reaching out to him, Harry had no doubts he would've fallen prey to the same Imp of the Perverse.

"R-really? You mean that?"

"Of course. Now, what brought this on? I'm pretty sure I said the troll would be the last time you cried." Harry prompted, a distant chuckle passing Hermione's lips.

"It's nothing. I guess seeing you in person again really cemented how much you've grown in the time you've left Hogwarts." Hermione admittedly shyly. "When we first met, it was kind of hard to associate you with all the talks of the legendary boy-who-lived. You just seemed like a shy kid trying his best to make his way through the world. Now though, you know more than some of our – my – professors do, all while travelling the world and experiencing more than I could ever dream of. All the times I thought I was teaching you, it felt as if I was only pestering you in the end. Knowledge-wise, I'm just an ant trying to talk to the lion."

"Hermione, if I thought you were pestering me, do you think I would be sending you all the souvenirs I had? Do you think I would've kept something like this?" looking to the cookie cutters held in his hands, Hermione had no response. "I mean, let's be honest about it; these are basic cookie cutters. If I enter any pound shop, I could probably find the same thing. It's because they're from you that they're so special to me. Even if everyone turns on me, you're the special friend who stuck with me through it all. Do you think a couple of letters explaining things I already know is going to change that? It's like when you hear a child boast about the new maths skills they've learnt in primary school; of course you know what they're talking about, but you're still eager to hear."

"…Yeah. That's true." Hermione could only murmur as she wiped her eyes. Regardless, she couldn't let such an openly provided opportunity for teasing go unanswered. "Still, did you really have to compare me to a primary school child? I've been keeping up with my non-magical education, beyond my level in fact! I could probably complete problems several times harder than you can comprehend!"

"There we go, there's the bookworm I know!" Harry cheered, throwing his hands up in defeat. "To be honest, maths isn't my strong point. I'm not gonna try and deny that. So long as I know enough to get through life, I'm happy. I haven't even touched any of the arithmancy books I've come across."

"You have an _arithmancy section_?" with the levels of excitement suddenly flowing through Hermione, even the strongest occlumency would struggle to suppress it. Harry barely had time to gesture in the right direction before she was eagerly rushing forward. If it weren't for Harry carefully plucking out one of the simpler tomes, Hermione might've been content simply basking in the volume of information available to her. "There's actually a reference book on the Chaldean method! Usually, they always stick with the Agrippan arithmancy!"

"Take it if you want. It's only going to sit here gathering dust." Harry easily answered, earning himself an emphatic hug that threatened to break bones. Within that minorly crushing hold, however, Harry found his excitement somewhat lessening. "I mean, if you come with me, then maybe you could have a chance to-"

"Harry, I've already said this before. My parents won't allow me to just take a random trip to Japan." Hermione quickly rejected once more, backing away reluctantly. If I'm not at Hogwarts, my family want me somewhere familiar. They wouldn't trust me to live alone with a boy for any period, but they don't want to adventure too far from their comfort zone either. Whether we like it or not, tonight's going to be the last time we see each other in a while."

"Yeah… Guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of this chapter, this story has reached the same stage it is in on Fanfiction.net. From now on, new chapters will be uploaded at the same time on both sites.


	15. The summer reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On returns and rice.

What did those eyes see as they gazed upon the majesty of Totsuki Academy? Harry wasn't entirely sure. At first, he had seen a bastion of peace: a place where Harry could indulge himself by honing an art he enjoyed without constantly looking over his shoulder. Perhaps he'd seen a chance to make friends he wouldn't need to abandon, forge relationships stronger than merely a conversation or two before he left. Even with Dumbledore's rather bitter visit, such images had only grown more cemented in Harry's mind with time.

How easily, those images crumbled.

"You don't get called a Dark Lord if you don't have influence," Harry muttered beneath his breath, the words soon drowned in freshly squeezed orange juice. With classes soon to start, he really shouldn't have been wandering about so aimlessly, yet Harry knew not where his feet were taking him. So long as it gave him the peace to ponder, he could worry about getting to classes when the time came. "What the hell am I meant to do now? Stick around and put this place in danger? All for a flimsy goal I chose on a whim?"

Did he even _have_ a goal in the first place? He liked cooking, so he went to a cooking academy; Harry could barely say he had _half_ the ambition his fellow students bore. Even if Harry had remarked to Momo about the potential Totsuki students had to change the world, it wasn't as if the boy truly envisioned himself doing so. The cost of fame was simply too high to risk. Whenever the thought of potentially owning his own business came to mind, the images of charred flesh and burning property refused to fade away. The moment that the dark forces discovered that Harry had settled down, they'd waste no time in razing it to the ground in hopes of killing him, and that was just with a small business. If Harry properly made a name for himself in the muggle world? Escape would be impossible.

But when every path led to a gruesome end, which could you choose? Though Harry's travels had been more than entertaining and education, a man could only walk so long without a destination. Even ronin had ambitions as they journeyed. Besides, there _had_ to be a day where Harry could move without fear of the Dark Lord's presence. When that time came, what excuse would he have for not having a goal to chase after? So long as his eyes remained tainted by hidden evils, Harry couldn't see what Totsuki was meant to be for him.

"Harry?"

"Ah, Hisako. I would've thought you'd be hanging around with Erina." Harry might not have turned to greet the pink-haired girl as she approached, but his tone was warm enough for her. It meant when Harry held out the bottle, she only hesitated slightly before accepting it with a bow. "Is she busy or something?"

"I-indeed. The Elite Ten Council have been deliberating for a long time n-now. While I'm Miss Erina's secretary, I'm still not privy to those, um, conversations." Harry tried his best to hold it in, he did. In the face of Hisako's obvious uncomfortable reaction though, the weary sigh passed his lips before he could stop it. "…Fine, I'll skip to the point. I saw the news of you and Momo in Australia during the vacation. What happened?"

"What can I say that the news probably didn't already say? Some terrorists decided to attack the market for some reason. Guess they thought that with the competition happening there, they'd make more of a statement." Harry replied with a shrug. "We were lucky to get out of there unscathed."

"I meant what _actually_ happened. I saw the destruction that happened there, it can't have been just a single bomb!"

It wasn't often that Hisako allowed so much emotion into her speech. To be at the side of a Nakiri required extensive control over their expressions lest they bring dishonour to their bosses. Such was why the only times she expressed anything other than cold professionalism was when Erina did the same. Even her recognition of Harry had only resulted in the smallest of fumbles before her composure returned. That meant when Hisako reached for Harry's collar with impressive speed, the boy could do little to fight back.

"Our family isn't exactly well connected, but we know a few people from England. We've been able to hear bits and pieces of what's been happening there." Hisako stated, her eyes narrowing for a second before concern softened them. "Rumours of… _His_ return, of His army becoming more active than ever before. It was them, wasn't it?"

"…First, why don't you have a drink? Something tells me you'll need it." Harry eventually answered, gesturing as well as he could to the bottle Hisako had dropped in her brashness. With her blunder revealed, it didn't take long before she released Harry with a cough. Scrambling to take the bottle, no time was wasted as she took a sip, only for her eyes to widen as she glanced at the liquid within. "Like it? I tried to make sure the flavours would balance out, but it's kind of difficult when you're working with such sugar-heavy ingredients."

"This feeling, I recognise it." Hisako failed to give a proper answer, her mind too busy analysing the foreign sensation that attempted to mess with it. Absently taking sip after sip, realisation soon settled in as she gave a small sound of recognition. "Calming draught? No, draught of peace? It can't be, something's off. I can't find the lavender scent a calming draught should have and it's the wrong colour for a draught of peace…"

"You're thinking too standard." Harry corrected with a small chuckle. "It's a Sri Lankan potion, the name's Sansun Manasaka Diyara or something like that. I managed to find a couple of books I'd stashed away thanks to my friend during the holiday. Not as strong as the other two, but it doesn't react weirdly when you put it into another liquid like orange juice. You can smell the fluxweed, right?"

"Sort of, but it's being masked by something else."

"That would probably be the horklump juice. You can't taste it, thank god, but the slight smell remains. Thankfully, the potion is relatively tasteless in general when you mix it right; I don't know how I could've stomached it had the butterscotch and honey overpowered everything."

"I see. We've grown fluxweed for use in Polyjuice and certain healing potions, but I've never heard of utilisation like this." It would take another minute before Hisako noticed the weak smirk playing on Harry's lips, her curious face soon changing to anger. Well, as much as it could, at any rate. Though it may not have been as strong as a calming draught or the draught of peace, Harry's potion served its purpose of calming the mind well. "Hey, don't change the subject. You got _attacked,_ it's _serious._ For all the security Totsuki has, it's still a muggle academy. There's only so much they can do to stop someone trying to get after you."

"I know. Why do you think I was downing that juice?" Harry replied. "Were the 'terrorists' in Australia Death Eaters? Yeah, they were. Does that mean they're in Japan and know I'm here? Don't have a clue. The safest thing to do would be to leave, but I've had to do that way too many times at this point. I'm not exactly enthusiastic about doing it again. The plan right now, if you can call it that, is sticking around until the first sign of danger. I have a couple of locations I can use as a hiding place until things cool down, but I'd rather not use them so quickly."

"Well… I don't think I can help make this place any safer." And how painful it was to admit as much. For all the prestige the Arato family might've held in japan, they were just a herb and potion ingredient supplier. It wasn't as if they were swimming in money to spend on protection and they wouldn't dare call themselves powerful magically by any stretch. "But even so, I… watching you leave would be a rather disappointing occasion. Regardless of your fame, you are a talented chef. To be unable to hone that skill because of this would be a shame."

"Hey, what's with the change in attitude? Just say that you'd miss the chance to talk to the Boy-Who-Lived." Harry's remark was punctuated by a light punch to Hisako's shoulder, far lighter than the one she gave to his stomach in return. He may not have liked the title that was bestowed upon him, but he wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to tease. Even so, the pink-haired girl didn't refute his claim. "Sorry, sorry. But seriously, I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet. Anything beyond that… eh, we'll figure them out when we have to."

"G-good. After all, the Autumn Elections are about to begin. I might not be allowed to see exactly who's allowed to participate, but there's no way you aren't being included after your stint with an alumnus." Hisako was quick to reply, turning about-face with only a glance back. "It is a formality at this point, but you should go check the board detailing participants. The chance to scout out your opponents might assist you in your cooking."

"Fine, fine. Let's go then." Harry sighed, rolling his shoulder as his prior smirk found itself returning. "Staying down in the dumps isn't going to do me any good. Might as well see what this Autumn Election thing is."

"Hang on, you _don't know_ about the Autumn Election?"

"Am I meant to? All I got told was that I'd have to come back halfway through the holiday to check our results."

Needless to say, the lecture that followed was as long as time would allow.

* * *

A fearsome battlefield upon which only one may be crowned the greatest chef of their year – that is the Autumn Election. Under the watchful eyes of some of the greatest names in the food industry, sixty students who stand above their peers take to the kitchen in search of glory. Present a single mistake and your reputation as a chef could be destroyed. Succeed, and prosperity is sure to follow. Those whose skill transcends all others may even have a chance at attaining one of the coveted seats of the Elite Ten. To even be considered for the Autumn Election was a special honour; to win was to carve your name into history.

Was it any wonder, then, that the crowds were so rowdy as they gathered around the boards detailing the lucky few?

"Oi, Harry! Over here!" lost within the copious numbers of cheering and despairing students, it took all of Harry's might to force himself towards the voice. Fortunately, being stood at the edge meant that once the black-haired boy finally pushed through the crowd, Souma and Shun were easy to find. "It's been radio silence with you all summer! I tried asking around to see if anyone had your number, but nobody does."

"Oh, um… I… I don't have a mobile phone." Came the sheepish reply, Souma left in silence for a moment before he scratched his head in embarrassment. "I've never really been good with technology; didn't have the chance to get accustomed to it. In some of the places I've travelled to, a mobile phone wouldn't work anyway."

Mostly because a phone wouldn't have lasted a second thanks to the dense magical energy permeating the air of the various communities Harry had been hiding in. Then again, it wasn't as if Harry had made enough friends to make the investment worthwhile. Hermione was more than content with sending letters and Ron… well, Harry hadn't talked to him in a while. When it was going to explode in his pocket the moment he approached anywhere magical and would sit unused elsewhere, what was the point to spending so much?

"Just call it a phone. You sound like an old man calling it by the full name." he redhead jokingly admonished in response, a light flick to Harry's head. "Everyone else has been chatting about what we've been doing over messages, so we'll have to have a get-together so you can get filled in. You said you went to Australia with one of our seniors for a competition? You have to tell me about all the food!"

"Souma…" Some might've claimed that Shun's face hadn't changed as he muttered. For those who had grown accustomed to his quirks, however, the sudden aura of disapproval was near palpable. Though it may have only manifested physically as a slight twitch of the mouth, that and Shun's voice alone was enough to send Souma reeling. "Could it be… you don't watch international news?"

"Well, I've never really been outside of Japan, so I only occasionally check in on the big stuff. Why, what's happened?" but the redhead would be left without a response, Shun only having the time to raise a questioning eyebrow towards Harry before a cry in the distance drew their attention.

"H-Harry!" Megumi's appearance belied her strength. Before Harry knew it, he was on the floor, his vision filled with a mess of blue as her hands carefully roamed his body. "You're not injured anywhere, a-are you? When I h-heard the news about the bomb, I was so worried! I t-tried contacting you, but nobody had an address or number for you!"

"Yeah, even Shun was easier to get talking than you!" fortunately, Yuki and Ryoko decided to approach at a more amicable pace, a pout and curious frown respectively. "The best thing you can do in those kinds of scenarios is to talk it out. Keeping it all bottled inside isn't any good!"

"Yuki's right. Hopefully, now that we're gathered together, you can speak about with us." Ryoko added, only for her frown to grow as Harry casually waved her off. As well as he could, at any rate. With how fervently Megumi checked his body for imaginary wounds, it was as if she thought he would dissolve the moment she released her grip.

"As I said with these two, it's not as if I was holding out. I just don't have a phone number to give. As for talking, I was lucky enough that it all went down in Australia. Not only did I have Momo to help me, but one of my friends from a previous school was also on holiday there." Harry reassured, released ever so hesitantly by Megumi as he flashed the most calming smile he could. Though it didn't seem to have much effect on the girl, her fidgeting at least settled somewhat. "Momo and I were the blessed few. We managed to get away without any injuries. Others… weren't so fortunate."

_His flesh appeared like a burnt joint of beef; uninviting red flesh marred by a wall of scorched black. His skin bubbled and blistered like pork crackling, giving way with a sharp snap as it was shattered by a falling piece of wood. Eyes like those of a fish stared lifelessly to the sky, bulging and bright as if freshly killed. Together, it looked as if his body had been thrown through a flambé, left to brown under the glaring sun and served upon a jus formed of his blood._

"But that's all in the past. More importantly, what's happening with this Autumn Election thing? Hisako was giving me a talk about it, but I kind of found myself spacing out halfway through." Harry eventually said after a sharp slap to his cheeks. It might not have completely removed the awkward atmosphere, but that didn't stop Shun from following through.

"I saw all of our names. We'll all be competing."

"Ikumi Mito, Takumi and Isami Aldini, Alice Nakiri… there are quite a few familiar names as well." Ryoko commented in turn, clapping her hands together. "I suppose that's to be expected though. They've already managed to build up reputations; it would've been strange _not_ to see them chosen."

"Who cares about that? We've got a record number of Polar Star Dorm residents participating, Fumio's going to go crazy!" Yuki excitedly interjected, her phone already in hand. "It's just like the Golden Age all over again!"

"Well, what do you expect when you've got people like _this_ guy casually challenging alumni to shokugekis out of the blue?" Souma was quick to interject, Harry rolling his eyes as the redhead's arm swung over his shoulders.

"I don't want to hear that after that stunt you pulled with your omelettes." Harry retorted, his grin matching Souma's as he gazed towards the board between drooping shoulders and hi-fives. "Besides, we've all done something the academy thinks is above everyone else. That's how we all got chosen in the first place, right?"

"Really? But I-I didn't really do anything…" it seemed that the only one who failed to adapt so easily was Megumi, her form exchanging fearful concern for nervous tension. With a disposition like that, it was natural for her remark to be barely above a whisper. Fortunately, a hand upon Megumi's shoulder quickly drew her out of the rapidly developing self-depreciation. "Harry?"

"Don't forget, it's not about creating something crazy – it's about having potential as a chef. Least, that's what I'm pretty sure Hisako told me." Harry corrected, gazing across the crowd with a certain nod. "If there's one thing that your cooking has shown me, it's that you have _plenty_ of potential. I don't think there's a single person here who would say otherwise. All you need is a little bit of confidence, cause you've damn well got the skills you need to flourish in this little tournament."

Surrounded by a sea of concurring faces, Megumi would've been a fool to try and argue further. Letting the smallest of smiles replaced her frown, the blue-haired girl gradually allowed the attitudes of her friends infect her.

To the sound of talks about a celebratory feast and guesses about what the challenges would be, Harry couldn't help the small sigh of relief that passed his lips. How could he possibly feel concerned when he was surrounded by such a comforting atmosphere? Yet even so…

"Damn, maybe I should've kept some of that orange juice. I'll have to make more…"

"What was that?"

"Just thinking aloud. If we're talking about ingredients, could you add some veal shank and polenta? I'll make a real mean Osso Bucco."

* * *

"I must admit, when you said that you were going to work on some more esoteric plants, I didn't quite expect to see such an interesting plot." Satoshi's comment caused Harry to jump in surprise, the shock nearly causing the trimmers he held to almost shave his plant in two. It was only by a miracle that Harry managed to regain control, the dittany he held living for at least another day. "This is meant to be threatened, isn't it? I don't think I've had the chance to see it before."

"Yep, cultivation is mostly focused in the South of Crete. I figured it would be useful to have around though; the essential oils seemed interesting to work with and the herbal tea is pretty nice as well." Harry replied once his heart returned to normal. "Plus, it's said to have some healing properties as well, so it's probably good to have around anyway. I've also got some angelica and aloe vera over to the side."

A quick order from a herbologist and they had come in no time at all. With the number of uses they had in potions, it was only natural for there to have been ample supply; how they would react if they knew the muggle world viewed dittany as threatened. The ease of its retrieval almost made harry flush with embarrassment. They must've thought he'd gone through incredible effort to attain such a carefully monitored herb.

Even so, there was no room for regret. Dittany was one of the few useful herbs he could afford to grow in the plot. Exposed as it was, trying to cultivate any of the more interesting specimens would result in a less than savoury situation. Even ingredients such as foxglove or aconite – both perfectly mundane plants – were off the table. After all, the plot was intended for cooking, so why on Earth would anyone waste time cultivating poisonous plants? Better to take what he could get and just pay up when something a bit more esoteric was required.

"Hey, everyone! The Autumn Elections Office sent us something!" the chirping birds were no match for Yuki's volume, heads popping up across the Polar Star Dormitory plots. Sure the return to the dorm life was appreciated, but relaxing was remarkably difficult with the Autumn Elections looming over their shoulders. Any possible hints about what they could prepare for were a godsend, which was probably why the majority swarmed the orange-haired girl in no time at all. Only Harry and Satoshi seemed to retain their composure, the younger of the pair taking one last swig from the bottle beside him before joining his classmates.

"No reason to wait, right?" Souma spoke, his grin unrivalled as he tore the offered envelope with reckless abandon. Under the watchful gaze of several, eager hands gradually began to pull out the paper held within, three words in elegant script brought out into the light. "Topic: curry… dish? What, that's it? That's all we get? Are they just asking us to make curry rice or something?"

"There's no way. They wouldn't have called it a curry 'dish' if that's what they wanted." Ryoko quickly dismissed, a finger held to her chin. "I suppose anything would be acceptable, so long as it incorporates curry in one way or another."

A contemplative atmosphere soon fell over the first years. While such a broad topic might appear advantageous at first, the possibilities made the process of decision making all the more difficult. With so many varieties and adaptations already in existence, creating a dish that could arouse the attention of the judges was no simple feat. Without a healthy level of innovation and imagination, those participating might as well just drop out from the very start.

Thank god that Polar Star didn't house anyone that lacked such skills.

"Hmm… I'm not too familiar with Japanese curry. Never had the time to check it out. I'll probably end up doing something closer to Indian style curry…" Harry mused, glancing back to his plot. Though the milder herbs served well in hiding them, the chilis growing there could be perfect for his plans. "Have to be careful though… they're probably too hot to do anything but destroy the flavour. There's a reason why they're put with other ingredients intended to remove the heat."

Unlike cooking where the seeds could usually be disposed of, the majority of the peppers' magical benefits came from the capsaicin contained within. Therefore, herbologists had spent years researching the perfect crossbreeds that produced insane amounts of the spicy chemical, to the point that the flesh itself could burn off a man's tongue. The blood, sweat and tears of countless researches had culminated in the monsters known as African red peppers hiding in Harry's plot. That meant any potions that required their use had to combat the horrific heat they came with. Eating them for pleasure? Regardless of the intensified flavour of the flesh, the heat meant it was unthinkable.

Unless you were someone who had experimented with potions. _Especially_ if you were someone who had recently worked with the taste alteration potion. It took a second to flood back to Harry, but the moment he did, his laughter couldn't be restrained. His little experiment with Momo hadn't been aimed towards any specific purpose. Never had Harry expected such a ripe opportunity to utilise his work appear so rapidly.

So long as the taste alteration potion could be implemented in just the correct way, that dastardly heat could be diminished without compromising the enhanced flavour of the chilis' flesh. Harry would have to make sure that the other ingredients weren't too overpowered by their flavour, but that was why they had been given advance notice.

"Alright then! Let's get to work!"

* * *

It was a shame, how little caramel was used in savoury dishes. Fears of ruining meals by making food too sweet meant that very few home chefs made use of the intrinsic umami caramel could bring. With the right sugars, caramel could bring a nutty toasted element to a dish like brown butter, or a bitterness that supports more powerful flavours magnificently. If you made sure to temper it with appropriate salt and acid, then the potential caramel held was great. After all, people had used sweet fruits in savoury dishes for countless years – was it not the sugars within those fruits that made the dishes so delectable? Using caramel worked off the same principles.

it was that mindset which allowed Harry to approach the kitchen counter with the confidence he held, an array of ingredients laid out before him. He may not have been a master of spice like the instructor Souma and Megumi had chosen to visit, but that didn't mean his knowledge was minimal. The memories of those mothers and grandmothers in the Indian magical community wouldn't fade so easily - not with how surprisingly well they treated a foreign visitor asking about all he could.

"Huh. I must be getting better." Harry couldn't help but comment as he looked to his hands, hands that had just finely slice a medium-sized onion in no time at all. While he may not have been the slowest with a knife of his year, it would still take a few minutes to go through an onion with a certain level of precision. "Guess that's what happens when you go through a culinary academy course."

With the rest of the spices either going in whole or lightly crushed though, the chance to further test his skills evaded Harry. Instead, a pressure cooker was set to heat up while 200 grams of basmati rice began the lengthy soaking process. as soon as the rice was clean and drained (or as clean as Harry could be bothered with), it would have to rest and soak for 20 minutes; the perfect time to temper his spices, prepare the garnish and make his caramel. The garnish was simple enough - the onions merely needing to fry in the heated oil of the pressure cooker until crispy - but the caramel and spices required a little more precision.

A bay leaf and 4 cloves met 5 peppercorns and star anise, an inch of a cinnamon stick joining soon after. They could enter the oil first, no preparation required before the tempering. The cardamom, 1 black and 3 green, would have to be lightly crushed, however, lest they be impenetrable bullets without any flavour whatsoever. The goal wasn't to cook them per se; the moment that Harry smelt that beautiful aroma and the oil began to splatter, the spices were quickly removed. With the additional frying and steaming they would go through with the rice, it wouldn't do to have them at a stage where they'd soon burn.

As for the caramel, a separate pan was filled with a cup of sugar, gradually brought up to medium heat. Taking precaution to swill rather than stir, all Harry could do after that was wait. Though the method couldn't be any easier, the pressure came with making sure that the sugar didn't become acrid rather than rounded. Unlike a 'wet' caramel, where water was added, a 'dry' caramel like Harry's would change colour at a much higher rate. While that meant the chances of crystallisation were lower and the cooking time was faster, the risks meant lesser chefs could ruin their caramel with little effort.

"Alright then, the edges seem about right," Harry muttered, glancing at the golden colouration with a breath of relief. The edges turning that crucial colour meant that it was safe to finally take a wooden spoon to the caramel, carefully incorporating the rest of the sugar until the entire thing had a similar hue. After those 7 minutes, the caramel was ready to meet everything else. "Let's do this then!"

Draining the rice might have taken a little longer than normal, but Harry wasn't exactly willing to take the risk of careless preparation. If it meant ensuring that there wasn't a volatile reaction as oil mixed with water, the time taken could be dismissed. Once it _was_ prepared though, all of the rice was dumped in with the tempered spices to be gently sautéed. Coated in the oil and spices, it didn't take before each grain was infused with several dimensions of flavour, the aroma unrivalled. That it already smelled so good brought a grin to Harry's face; the best had yet to come, after all.

If the rice had been beautiful before, then the rich colour that came as the caramel was added could stand against masterpieces. Like paint upon a canvas, what once was plain soon took on an elegant hue. That wasn't to say it was coloured like bark, however; by carefully limiting how much caramel was added, an understated visage was born rather than something gaudy. Indeed, with the potential to overwhelm that caramel had, that beauty was indicative of Harry's success. All that was left was to steam.

When Harry had been told to let the rice steam for two whistles, he wasn't exactly sure how to respond. It was only the fact that they were housing him that had Harry biting back his joke of being unable to whistle well. That silence and visible confusion were what led to the boy being thrown headfirst into the world of Indian pressure cooking. A world where pressure cooking was no novelty, but an everyday occurrence.

Indian pressure cookers weren't built like their western counterparts. Whereas more recent American and European pressure cookers tend to utilise a spring device in controlling the pressure, Indian versions still rely upon the older weight-based designs. As a result, unlike western pressure cookers that don't release steam until the pressure is released, Indian cookers had the wonderful tendency of venting excess pressure at regular intervals depending on the heat. As one would expect, a process like that wasn't exactly quiet. While they had come to be known as whistles, the horrific sound that was produced was nothing close. Imagine the shrill hiss of a demon and you _just might_ get something roughly comparable.

The positive of a design like this? It meant that with enough familiarity with the quirks of your pressure cooker, timers almost become irrelevant. Though the pressure cooker manufacturers had been trying to wean the population off using the whistles as measurements, they remained a popular form of timekeeping. Therefore, the women teaching Harry saw no qualms with noting the time as two whistles and nothing else. It was perfectly reasonable measurement… unless one had a non-whistling pressure cooker.

Totsuki wouldn't _dare_ be seen using what they'd consider outdated technology. Not unless it was some historical preservation society at least. That meant Harry was left in a bit of a conundrum. If there had been a direct translation between whistles and actual time, then that would be one thing. The problem was that the number didn't just change with heat, but sometimes even by the cooker. Unless one had the chance to familiarise yourself with your pressure cooker, you could never be too sure how often the whistles occurred.

"Guess we're going to go off instinct…" Harry sighed aloud as the necessary water and salt were added to the rice, glancing to the clock looming above as he secured the lid. Thanks to the importance of timing in cooking, Totsuki had invested in clocks that could be seen from anywhere in the test kitchen – lovely while cooking normally, not so friendly when Harry was taking a chance with the time. "Let's go with 3 minutes and hope for the best."

And what an arduous three minutes they turned out to be. Rice wasn't a particularly long cook in general – around 15 to 20 minutes for white rice – meaning that the margin for failure was tiny with a pressure cooker. For every degree of temperature the pressure cooker rose over one hundred, the cooking time was halved; with the temperature Harry was working at, that meant the rice should only need four minutes max. As a result, even the smallest of fluctuations could mean the difference between bullets, perfectly cooked rice, and mush.

Still, Harry couldn't afford to hesitate. If this was going to appear on his plate during the Autumn Elections, then he had to master it. Anything less would have him kicked to the bottom of the pile before he knew it. Even so, the slight fidget to Harry's hands refused to be controlled. At first, it was somewhat tolerable, but barely a minute passed before it grew too annoying for Harry to bear. Fortunately, Harry's potion work within his briefcase had only grown. It didn't take more than a few breaths before a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice was combined with Sansun Manasaka Diyara. Nothing more than a single sip was required before the twitching was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank god I managed to find all these recipes. Be a shame if I lost them in my library." Harry sighed as he leaned back, taking another draw from the bottle almost instantly. As the summer passed, it was becoming a more familiar flavour, as well as several other potions he'd found buried in the depths of several books he had forgotten to read during his travels. None of them was particularly special, but several had stood out for their vastly preferable tastes over the more common equivalents. For someone who sought to integrate potions and cooking, it wasn't possible to imagine a greater treasure trove. "Ah, time, it's time!"

The moment that three minutes passed, a huge hiss filled the air as the pressure was vented from the cooker. The scents locked within rushed out like a waterfall, the multiple spices fusing to create into an aroma even more formidable than the first. Anyone in the vicinity would find their mouths watering without question, and that was without glimpsing the rice itself.

Harry need not have worried. With the lid removed, perfectly steamed rice was revealed. Though there was already a sheen, the addition of just a teaspoon of ghee gave the whole dish a magnificent shimmer. Furthermore, as if the texture wasn't good enough already, the addition of the fried onions prepared before provided an excellent crunch. In all honesty, Harry should've waited for the rice to cool rest for five minutes before doing so, then allowed it more time to cool. With the excitement of his success however, the patience required wasn't there. If there _was_ any major difference, it simply meant that the final product would taste even better than it did then.

Taking the most cautious of bites, a momentary cheer escaped the boy as he was drawn back to India and the Parsi family he had resided with. It may not have been the strongest flavoured dish, but that was never the intention. A sophisticated flavour that paired well with other dishes, yet kept you coming back for more – that was what characterised the caramelised rice. No meal could stand without a strong foundation, and a strong foundation was exactly what the rice provided.

In an instant, Harry felt himself enveloped in comfort only a lively home could bring. That soothing sensation of a mother's love to her children and a wife's love to her husband was poured into every grain, or as much as Harry could hope to replicate. For one who didn't have the greatest of familial environments growing up, there was only so much Harry could achieve. That he was able to recreate the caramelised rice to this extent was a miracle worth celebrating. Now Harry just had to move onto the hard part.

The _actual curry_.


	16. The Autumn Elections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On curries and casualties.

From the moment Harry stepped into the stadium prepared for the Autumn Elections, the air of extravagance was unavoidable. Whether it was the garish levels of gold that plastered seemingly every surface or the copious number of elaborate portraits staring down upon them, the entire arena was designed with nought but excess in mind. Though it might have lacked the magical elements, it wouldn't have been too outlandish to compare the stadium to a modernised Hogwarts. Considering Hogwarts was an ancient _castle_ , that was a feat to be commended.

"What, were they trying to make the walls the colour of curry or something?" Harry couldn't help but muse to himself, taking a sip from his bottle as he tried to make his way through the gathered crowd. No doubt many were sharing the same thoughts if the equal combination of astonished and confused looks meant anything. Were it not for the fact that they were on the Totsuki campus, you'd they were going to hold the royal variety performance or something.

Well, in hindsight, the students and staff alike had done little to diminish the importance of the elections. Maybe such a comparison wasn't too unsuitable.

"Yo, Harry!" Fortunately for Harry, his search didn't last long. After all, only one person dared to have such inimitable casual confidence. No more than a few seconds passed before Harry was throwing his fist out to Souma, Megumi stood with a nervous smile behind him. What else could he have expected? It would take a disaster to throw Souma off and even then, it would probably last for barely a breath. "We've been looking all over for you. How's the rest of the summer been? You're looking a little tired."

"Quieter, if nothing else." Came the boy's response. To call it easy would be a woefully blatant lie. Between experimenting with his potions and ensuring the quality of his curry, there had been more than a fair share of difficulties for Harry to surpass. Then again, it wasn't as if any were outside the realm of Harry's predictions. Had he not expected that much, he might as well have not entered the Autumn Elections in the first place. "Had a couple of rough nights, but nothing I couldn't recover from. I like to think I have a fair chance. We English may not have invented curry, but we damn well took it and made it our own. You two didn't have much trouble I hope?"

"I think it was great! I've been training super hard-!" whatever Megumi wanted to add was immediately drowned out by a cheer, the girl nearly thrown to the floor as an orange-haired blur latched onto her. Thankfully, Ryoko chose a more composed method of announcing her arrival than her fellow student, a light wave more than sufficient. "Y-Yuki!"

And they were not alone. Ikumi, Takumi, Alice and many others; prominent names came without end, each bearing no small amount of friendly threats as they went about their preparations. Harry tried his best to keep up with them, but constant witty banter had never been his thing. For sure, the boy was rather proud of his ability to answer feisty remarks with equal measure but doing so rapidly was more taxing than Harry realised. It wasn't long before Harry was responding with little more than a haughty grin; better that than flubbing his words and making a fool of himself.

"Looks like you and Souma are popular. Shun remarked from behind, punctuated by a small gesture towards where Souma was eagerly engaging a silver-haired student. From what little Harry could overhear, they were at least somewhat friendly, yet no name came to mind - a summer acquaintance then. "People are treating you like some of the largest targets."

"Were you expecting anything else?" Harry replied with no more than a passing glance to the surrounding masses. As far as Harry was aware, they were neither blind nor death. If they didn't expect someone who was able to challenge an alumnus successfully or complete two hundred servings in a fraction of the time provided to provide a challenge, then their arrogance knew no bounds. People like them? They never would've gotten the opportunity to partake in the Autumn Elections. Totsuki may have had an issue with hierarchy, yet they had not earned their reputation without due reason. "Not that it makes a difference at this point. If anyone wants to make any trouble, they'll have to prove themselves in the kitchen. That should get rid of most of the bad apples, right?"

It wasn't as if there was a place to hide. Under so many prying eyes, any attempts at subterfuge and trickery would be rooted out in seconds. There was a reason why Harry had spent extra effort in ensuring he would not require any of his potions to achieve the effects he desired; a Shokugeki was heavily viewed, but still a common occurrence. While newer students would be easily enraptured, many of the seniors would grow lax unless there was a reason to pay attention. With the Autumn elections, the same could not be said.

"Eyes up front, everybody! It's time for the opening speech from our very own director, Senzaemon Nakiri!"

Shun's answer, much like everyone else, was soon silenced as the glaring lights died, only the stage remaining illuminated. Considering how piercing the eyes of the aged man stood there were though, it was almost unnecessary. One glance was all that was required to understand just how he had managed to create an academy so skilled at pumping out talented chefs. His stance alone was enough to inspire awe, let alone his actual skills. Presenting anything less than excellence to a man like that would be inviting your own death.

The silence that followed the man's introduction was nothing but stifling. Had Harry not faced things far more absurd than his peers could imagine, he too would've undoubtedly been lost in the aura Senzaemon produced. As it was, however, Harry couldn't help the excitement welling in the back of his mind. Having him give a speech was one thing, but actually having the chance for someone of his calibre to judge Harry's skill was another beast entirely.

Therefore, when Senzaemon's face fell the moment he stepped up to the pedestal, no one was quite sure how to react.

"…My apologies. I just choked on something." The man began, the foul expression on his face quickly fading away. The energy coursing through the air here, it always takes me aback. After all, this Heaven and Moon Hall is typically reserved for the Elite Ten's exclusive use. Those portraits you see above are those skilled chefs who were able to attain the first seat in Shokugekis conducted within this very hall. Countless of these Shokugekis have been fought, giving birth to unrivalled specialities from every point of the spectrum. The memories of those battles linger, creating the perfect atmosphere for competition. Such is why the main tournament for the Autumn elections will be held here!"

"Then, only the people who pass the prelims will be able to cook on that stage?" Zenji could be heard muttering from the front, soon rippling across the audience. Show people the stars and they'll strive to reach them – the effectiveness of such a strategy was undeniable. Already, there were several whispers Harry could overhear speaking of their determination to reach the prestigious platform.

"Those who thrive here will make their mark on history! Therefore, you chefs of Class Ninety-Two, I shall be waiting to greet you here again!" and with Senzaemon's final declaration, those very same whispers became raucous cheers that threatened to shake the entire building. Though he may not have been able to provide it with the same energy as his peers, Harry easily found himself joining the cheers with one of his own. Caught up in the atmosphere, it would've been a shame not too. "I trust you will be able to explain the rules of the preliminaries?"

"Of course, Director!" the MC chirped, trying her best to beat out the ruckus occurring below. Even so, several minutes would pass before her bubble voice was able to be heard over the crowd. "Now then, let me show you how things are going to go down! Just like it was said in our notices, the topic for this Autumn Election is a curry dish. After three hours, the lucky sixty who were chosen to compete will be whittled down by our panel of expert judges. How many will be continuing? Why, four from each group. That's right – only eight will move on to the main tournament! If you want to be one of them, better start moving to your designated spaces!"

"Harry, we're in the same group, right?" Megumi tried to ask, yet it took all of Harry's might to hear even a jot. With the knowledge of just how few would be able to proceed to the next stage, what had once been excited determination had devolved into fierce competition. Desperate to survive, the student body had fractured in an instant, a cacophony of friendly and not so friendly taunts drowning any standard conversation. "Um, does that mean we're enemies now?"

"Course." The ease in which Harry uttered his answer brought a shiver to Megumi's spine, at least until she looked down at the hand offering a half-full bottle of orange juice. "You act like that means anything though. All you have to do is put your everything into your food; don't worry about what everybody else is doing."

"But you managed to beat Kojiro Shinomiya!" she couldn't help but cry out. In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't the best of ideas to respond with a sigh and a roll of the eyes. In that situation, however, it was all Harry could think about. Too engrossed in her nerves, Megumi wouldn't notice it until the back of Harry's palm lightly hit her cheek, the girl too stunned to respond beyond a single word. "H-huh?"

"You're overthinking things," Harry answered, cupping her hands around the bottle. "Take a sip, it'll loosen you up a bit. There's nothing bad in there, just a little something to help clear the mind. If you spend too much time thinking about what your opponents are capable of, you'll forget about how much you can achieve. Focus on producing the best curry you can, because it's not as if anything you do is going to change how everyone else's dish is going to come out."

Any hesitation Megumi might've had melted away when she saw the weary reassurance on Harry's face. He had yet to steer her wrong at this point; what reason had he to start now? Thus, with a quick flick of the wrist removing the screw top, Megumi allowed the liquid within to flow unto her tongue.

Met by the sweetness of fresh fruit mixed with a lingering flavour of something indescribable, a small smile began to blossom. Megumi didn't hesitate to take a second draw, yet her attempt at a third was quashed when Harry took the bottle back for himself. Just for good measure, the boy quickly threw the rest of the bottle's contents down his throat before it was discarded over his shoulder, just barely managing to land inside of a nearby bin.

"Sorry, don't want you having too much. Someone not used to these kinds of drinks will feel the effects a little more than others. We're trying to make you calm, not lethargic." Harry commented, looking back to find Megumi completely frozen in place with the most luminescent blush imaginable. Naturally caught off guard, Harry was left lost for words. "Er, everything alright?"

"I-indi-dir-indi…"

"Okay, come on. We need to move, or all the good spots will be taken!"

* * *

Stood beneath the glare of the stage lights, Harry felt an energy that hadn't been present for a long time. Sharpening a cleaver with practised ease, all sense of stress seemed to evaporate. There was no reason to fear; he'd long since memorised his recipe and his time at Hogwarts had gotten him more than used to the glares that constantly surrounded him. With the Polar Star students each exchanging looks of encouragement, any apprehension dissolved away. Therefore, when Senzaemon's face upon the giant screens above called out to begin, Harry dove in with unbridled enthusiasm.

First came the dough – rather odd place to start for a curry, but it needed the time to prove. With only three hours, pushing it off would create unnecessary risks. That was why 250 grams of plain flour and a teaspoon of salt were thrown into a bowl without hesitation, lukewarm water gradually added until it started to come together into a solid dough. Then, it would only require ten minutes of vigorous kneading before it was ready to be rolled into walnut-sized balls. Unlike normal doughs, however, the doughballs weren't just going to prove on a tray, much to the intrigue of one particular judge.

"Is that a… vat of oil?" Shingou Ando said, his gaze pointed fixated on Harry's hand as they dropped the balls into the vat one by one. "Is that meant to help the proving process or something?"

"I suppose that seeing as your magazine's focus lays on western cooking, you wouldn't be familiar with the technique." Osaji Kita sat beside him answered, no small amount of smugness to the elderly man's tone. "That technique, he must be making Godhamba Roti. Storing the dough in oil like that allows it to gain an incredible elasticity and an excellent velvety texture. Quite a strange choice though, seeing as he's also making rice… putting two sets of carbs on the table may be a little excessive."

"Tch, you guys are acting like that's the most interesting piece on his table." Yet another remarked in disdain, the first two silenced as soon as they turned their eyes back to Harry's table. Admittedly, the rest of the judging group shared a similar intrigue. After all, when someone's dish had the ability to stare back, it was only natural for there to be some curiosity. "Most of the students seem to be sticking to more traditional cuts of meat, even when they're butchering their own. I don't think anyone else was brave enough to try tackling a lamb's head."

The damn thing had been a bastard for Harry to attain for practice, but credit where credit was due – the Totsuki supply chain was unrivalled no matter what ingredients you desired. Much like cow heads, lamb heads were typically thrown away by most suppliers simply since barely anyone used them. Even in a culinary academy, few enjoyed working with such ingredients, especially when the more traditional meats provided more than adequate results. Thus, it was relegated to barely populated Research Societies, most of which were forced to go through similar struggles to find appropriate sources.

With the eyes and brain removed, a cleaver slowly began to work away at the cheeks, carefully carving away at the flesh until a few sharp strikes could break the jawbones within. A few additional careful cuts and the lower jaw could be forcibly torn away from the rest of the head, the meat it held sliced off so it could be chopped up. All that remained was the tongue, for while it was a perfectly viable ingredient, the distinctive texture simply didn't mesh well with the rest of the dish.

The upper half of the head would require just a bit more work. After all, the horns had to be hacked off (for obvious reasons) and the ears carefully removed (too much collagen – ears were better suited for a braise than what Harry intended) before the boy could work on his prized meat. Once they were off, however, it was a case of cutting off any meat that could be found. Unlike in other situations where you might want a more precise butchering of the muscles, Harry's curry needed chunks; if there was no need for precision, why bother? That Harry's hand occasionally shook and his lines were occasionally wobbly didn't matter a jot. A careful rinse to remove any remaining contaminants and Harry could move on to the next stage.

"Lentils need half an hour to soak, so work on the marinade and then use the time to chop vegetables…" Harry absently whispered, already pouring the lentils into the waiting bowl of water as his other hand reached for his lamb pieces. A tablespoon each of ginger and garlic paste, a teaspoon of chilli powder and half a teaspoon of turmeric powder were soon thrown into said lamb, a rigorous mix meaning that they too were ready to be placed aside. While there might not have been the time for the most optimal marinade, the curry itself would have more than enough flavour to compensate for the minimal difference. "Right then, let's get this veg on the go!"

A large onion was stripped of its skin, cut in half and sliced without hesitation. As soon as a peeler entered Harry's hands, the same fate befell two medium potatoes, this time cut into cubes. Though a little bit tougher, it didn't take long before a red pumpkin, a bottle gourd and an eggplant ended up cubed as well, a cup each of their flesh joining the rest of the prepared vegetables. Add in two freshly sliced green chilis, enough water and half a teaspoon of turmeric and they could be tossed into the pressure cooker when the lentils were ready. What to do during the spare time? Why, start preparing the caramelised rice of course.

Once the lentils had been soaked, the vegetables save for the onions would need around 15 minutes to cook until they were soft - a drastic decrease from the fifty or so one might require without a pressure cooker. Having been briefly distracted by the rest of his preparations, Harry's batch was allowed to go just a little over that time, the lentils coming out just a little too soft for if they were going to be served as they were. Considering that they were intended for the blender though, a little bit of overcooking was no problem at all, the lentils and other vegetables breaking down into an excellent puree.

After that, there was only one last thing to prepare before the construction of the actual curry could begin – the spice blend. Undoubtedly the most crucial element of all; an incorrect balance of spices could turn a perfectly serviceable dish into something unpalatable. Certainly, they could be customised to an extent depending on taste, but messing around too much could soon start to introduce unintended and unwanted flavours. Whether the students could properly utilise spice to elevate their dish would easily separate the weak from the strong.

That was why Harry was so glad for his little adventures; had he not been shown how to make his spice blend, then the boy would've been out of his depth for ages. 10 peppercorns, 8 cloves, an inch of cinnamon stick, an inch of mace, a star anise, 1 each of black and green cardamom, a tablespoon each of coriander seeds and cumin seeds, half a teaspoon of fennel seeds, 2 dried Kashmiri chillies: they all entered a pan over medium heat. Gently tossing them together, Harry found a sigh escaping as their aroma began to reach his nostrils. Once cooled, throw them into a spice grinder along with half a teaspoon of turmeric powder and a third of a teaspoon of grated nutmeg, and the powerful blades would pulverise it all into a beautiful spice powder.

His satisfaction was not to last, for it was not long after that the screens above displayed the events occurring in group A's kitchens, audience and judge alike enraptured by some overwhelming fragrance if the commentary was anything to go by. Commanding such a powerful presence, it was impossible to ignore, near every eye within drawn to the origin of the captivating scent. One would expect something as potently pungent to be nasty, but the truth couldn't have been any further from negative – and the silver-haired student responsible knew that all too well. Working his curry with a serenity that spoke of long familiarity, the silver-haired boy did little to hide his confidence as he prepared the fish head upon his counter, the pot simmering away enticing all who could smell its contents.

That wasn't to say he was completely unrivalled. Souma was definitely not slacking in that department as well. Actually, maybe slacking wasn't the best way to put it; having miraculously fallen asleep amongst the noise and bright lights, Souma didn't exactly scream diligence. When some mysterious force drew him out of the realm of slumber however, the scents that emerged when he opened the pot didn't disappoint. Even the silver-haired student made his surprise evident, a conversation Harry failed to hear igniting a flame in both of them.

Staring at the screens as he worked without pause, the smirk on Harry's face could not be moved. So, he was beaten when it came to aroma. Not as if that was all there was to making a curry.

Of course, the kitchens of group B were proving to be just as lively. When an entire monkfish was rolled into the arena, bursts of whispers could be heard from the audience, both in horror from the fish's appearance and anticipation as to who would handle such a beast. Coated in a less than appetising slime, filleting a monkfish was a task that required considerable effort and training, more so than could be expected of students their age. Therefore, when the monster of a fish's hook was brought before Megumi of all people, there was a fair number who began to voice their disbelief and jeers. How fortunate she was that Daigo and Shoji had thrown themselves wholeheartedly to defend her name.

Under any other circumstances, a situation like that would terrify Megumi to no end. The lack of faith in her abilities was near palpable, the expressions upon the judge's faces less than reassuring. It was as if they were awaiting the opportunity to laugh and scorn and with the number of clutzy moves Megumi had made before, such expectations weren't unjustified. That wasn't even taking into account the numerous gazes from the other chefs in the arena, their surprise soon morphing into restrained curiosity. Indeed, the pressure of it all would've sent a previous Megumi spiralling into despair.

Brandishing her knife with all the elegance of a professional fencer though, not a single ounce of fear could be found in the blue-haired girl. In fact, when Harry gave a questioning thumbs-up, a flame rarely seen in Megumi's eyes shone brightly as she gave one in return. The years of training she had forced her family's friends to give had all been culminating to this very moment; once you had dealt with monkfish several times, its fearsome nature was practically non-existent. Megumi would have to thank Harry for whatever concoction he put into that orange juice that allowed her to acknowledge that; she would be remiss if she pretended it was anything else.

Though there was no need to remove the majority of the meat for her dish, leaving a behemoth of a monkfish like hers untouched would be too great of a waste. That was why two swift movements managed to tear the skin away from the cheek muscles, delightful pockets of flesh that from a monkfish of this size, could constitute meals in and of themselves. Then followed the ghastly procedure of removing the head from the rest of the body, Megumi spending no more than a second feeling for the lump upon the monkfish's spine before she was carving away. Following the natural curvature of the muscles, it didn't take long before the one final slice from the centre to the lateral fin took the head off, the mass discarded from the hook in favour of the rest of the body.

A sharp pair of scissors made quick work of the dorsal fin, the rest of the leathery skin soon peeled away from the prized meat it held. Removing the second skin from the fillets she so desired, it was child's play for Megumi to carve out the cuts, any coloured meat trimmed and the veins removed without a single margin of error. Extract the liver and a job many would struggle to even partially complete was finished in seemingly no time at all. Was there anyone who thought the resulting amazement on the public's face was undeserved? It was just a shame the confidence that allowed for the feat faded the moment her work was complete, Megumi suddenly flinching when the full weight of their shock fell upon her.

Harry spared a small round of applause when their eyes met, but he couldn't take his attention away from his curry for too long. After all, his oil had reached the proper temperature and the bay leaves added. With the onions frying away until crisp and lightly brown, the lamb meat could join the party, meticulously cooked until every last trace of rawness was gone. Sauté that with the spice powder blended earlier for a couple of seconds and it was ready for 3 tablespoons of tomato puree, to be further sautéed for 3 minutes. All that was left was to toss in the lentil puree, let it come to the boil and then stir in 4 tablespoons of tamarind paste and a small piece of jaggery – five or seven minutes and that would be the curry done. Typically, at any rate.

Unbeknownst to many, not everyone had their attention to the more attention-grabbing aspects of the competition. Orie Sendawara would not have been able to help the Haubi food company rise to its current fame were she so easily swayed by theatrics. Thus, her gaze remained not on the remains of Megumi's monkfish, but on the far calmer worktop hidden in the corner where Harry was removing his dough from its oil bath.

"Satoshi~? That boy over there, he is the one who defeated Kojiro Shinomiya, right?" Orie muttered, Harry blissfully unaware as he began to spread his dough out. Barely a brush from his fingers was enough to stretch the silky dough to obscene thinness, such that when it inevitably hit the pan, no more than a few seconds on each side would have the Roti perfectly crisp.

"Indeed. I'm proud to say he is a part of my dorm as well." Satoshi replied with a half-baked smile. With how callously Orie had referred to his friends as mere toys to be purchased, it was a miracle even that level of smile still remained. Now that her attention had been brought to Harry, Satoshi wasn't sure whether he would be able to maintain it. "He has a remarkable skill for taking the mundane and evoking incredible reactions from it. If I had to put a name for it… rather than a specific ingredient, he seems to specialise in nostalgia and anemoia. The ability to bring forth the memories of a past, whether it be their own or Harry's. He's managed to earn the attention of several people, but his association with Momo Akanegakubo and me prevents them from acting."

"I see. I expected someone like that to put on a better show." The blonde sighed, her head falling into her palm as she continued to watch Harry's work. "His movements are sloppy, sluggish. I would've thought someone with the skill to beat an alumnus so early in their career would show a bit more refinement. As he is, that boy would barely last a second in a professional kitchen. What a shame."

"What?" tension shot through Satoshi's body as an erratic rhythm filled the air, a different confusion spreading through the audience as the noise echoed through the arena. Far from the fierce roars of flames, there was a musicality to the noise that stood out like a sore thumb; the perfect excuse for Satoshi to better scrutinise his junior without being too explicit. "Harry…"

His whispered concern would remain unheard, for Harry was no longer aware of the world around him. Instead, his mind had drifted back to those Sri Lankan streets, to the many food vendors trying to make their way through life. With so much competition, a quaint little tradition had formed, one that a squib Harry came across had been more than delighted to share. To stand out among the crowd, many vendors had taken to tapping out a small ditty as they chopped up their roti, a little jingle that meant should a customer desire to eat there again. All they had to do was follow the music. It had taken many tries before Harry could achieve the same without someone jokingly calling out that he was stealing their tune, the joy of that experience permeating the air as Harry continued to chop.

"…I see. It isn't just Godamba Roti he was preparing, but Kotthu Roti." Osaji called out, a flash of recognition passing across his features. "His curry did seem to be rather thick compared to what one would usually expect. By having the roti made so thinly that they can become crispy, a primarily smooth curry can have some extra texture added in. Doing it this way also prevents the carbs from being too overbearing. A Sri Lankan favourite taken from Singapore and applied to what looks to be a Parsi Dhansak… what an interesting combination!"

Yet Satoshi failed to share in the other judges' merriment. Just like Orie, the boy couldn't tear his sightline away from the weakness present in Harry's arms, a weakness no amount of enthusiasm could cover up. Harry's stance lacked the posture one would expect of a competitor, instead bearing a laxity not born from relaxation, but of an inability to muster anything greater. There was nothing that would cause immediate alarm – Harry would've never been left alone had there been – but now that Satoshi's attention had been drawn to it, the signs were impossible to ignore.

Perhaps the worst part of it was that Harry didn't look as if he knew. Acting could cover up his exhaustion to an extent, but there was veracity to Harry's face that would be impossible to fake. He was genuinely unaware of the burden his body was going through, somehow able to convince his mind to ignore the struggle in favour of soldiering on. A somewhat commendable, if utterly reckless, mindset.

No wonder Harry had chosen a recipe that required minimal precision beyond measuring out ingredients and making caramel. In roughly hacking, relying on forgiving timings and crudely chopping, he had been able to disguise the inaccuracy of his movements. By brute-forcing his body to project an aura of composure, nobody second-guessed Harry's sloppy posture. Each of the methods would be clever under any other circumstances, but when placed under high scrutiny, it would be obvious that at least someone would be able to take notice. That was a fact Satoshi was sure Harry perfectly understood.

So why would Harry take the risk? If his dish had been difficult to develop, surely, he would've sought out assistance. The others at Polar Star might not have been able to directly help considering they were competing, but nothing was stopping them from finding someone who could. Pushing himself to the extent that he clearly did could only serve as a detriment, especially when so much was riding on the Autumn Elections reputation-wise. There was only one possibility, one that left a taste fouler than any food he had come across on his tongue.

Harry didn't have a choice.

"Something's wrong-!" Satoshi attempted to say. Before that sentence could be finished though, his sentiments were made more than obvious. After all, the sound of a knife clattering against the ground followed by the low thump of a body was bound to make a spectacle. As soon as the cameras homed in on Harry's comatose body, crimson leaking from his collarbone to stain his chef's jacket, there wasn't a single soul in either arena who knew not of his issues.

Silence, followed by a tremulous noise.

In the history of the entire Autumn Elections, there had been a grand total of zero people who had managed to injure themselves. It was, you see, a professional cooking environment; anyone clumsy enough to cause harm would not have received the coveted invitation. Well, there had been a few who came close, but that was a tale for another time. Regardless, with the skill expected of those participating, having any sort of medical assistance on hand had been deemed unnecessary after so many years of their being unneeded. Therefore, when chaos first erupted, nobody was quite certain how long it would be until help arrived.

"Harry!" Being the closest to his table, Hisako was the first to jump into action. Carefully wiping away the blood pooling upon his collar, a small sigh escaped her when only a minor cut was revealed. A wound like that would require just a plaster and a few days' patience to heal. They could only thank the gods that the knife hadn't fallen any higher. "Pulse is normal, breathing is normal…?"

No, there wasn't anything about Harry's body that was immediately concerning, a conclusion perhaps even more frightening than if there was. At least then there would at least be a cause that Hisako wouldn't be afraid to speak of out loud. When Hisako caught a glimpse of what lay beneath Harry's workstation though, it became clear that the truth was not something that could be spread, at any cost.

Grabbing the bottle of orange juice as discretely as possible, one sniff was all Hisako needed to understand. Actually, 'understand' wasn't really the best term to use. Harry might've given her a brief explanation about how his potion worked, but there was still much about it that Hisako didn't know. Even so, the symptoms – or rather, _lack_ of symptoms – bore many similarities to an overdose on something like the Draught of Peace. It wasn't much, but it was something to work off.

The fact that mishandling said draught could potentially put the user into an _irreversible_ sleep did not escape Hisako.

"The cut isn't anything serious. My initial thoughts are that Harry has pushed his body to exhaustion." Hisako eventually spoke aloud to the growing crowd surrounding her. "Making sure he can receive appropriate rest is paramount. Otherwise, I don't believe there is anything that would require major concern. Move him to the infirmary; I'll observe him for the time being. My curry has already been completed."

Had anyone else spoken then, people would be quick to prove sceptical. With Hisako's close association with Erina however, she had managed to reach a close level of fame, meaning none dared rebut. The medical abilities of her family were known throughout the nation, and there wasn't anyone who would be so presumptuous as to assume Hisako was not similarly trained. The thought of having to use that reputation in the way she was then had never passed Hisako's mind.

Thus, with but a soundless conversation from the people in charge, a group of adults were quickly dispatched to remove Harry's body to a safer environment, Hisako following closely behind with an unreadable expression. It was obvious that many others wished to join them, but a firm cough into a microphone gave them pause.

"While unexpected events have occurred, the Autumn election will still continue as stated. All participants are to return to their workstations immediately!" a voice boomed over the speakers, people returning with equal parts awkwardness and reluctance. Deep in their hearts, the residents of Polar Star knew that there couldn't be any alternative, not when Totsuki placed so much on the Autumn Elections.

The same wasn't true for a certain Elite Ten member.


End file.
